Icha Icha Fashion
by talanai rialric
Summary: Jiraya turns his popular novels into a successful clothing line and Naruto is drafted to model.  As the company expands, world famous model Sasuke is hired as a part of business mogul Itachi's "master plan." Chaos ensues.  Yaoi, SasuNaru
1. Contractual Obligations

Contractual Obligations

Jiraya scowled at the contracts. Just watching the ink dry nauseated him. But it was a necessary sort of sickness, a necessary pain. With a resolute sigh he pushed his chair away from his desk and headed for his private stash of liquor. A dark oak cabinet inlaid with countless tiny carvings housed his liquid courage, and only he had the key.

Tsunade picked the lock when she wanted something.

To his mind there was nothing a little whiskey couldn't fix. And when whiskey couldn't fix it, the problem was generally too troublesome to bother with, or worse yet, involved women. Tumbler in hand he stared out the window of his office and sent a silent plea to the universe that he had made the right decision.

"Cheers," he said tonelessly, an empty echo of the previous night's celebratory salute. Everything had seemed so perfect then, drunk on good food and company. Perhaps a tiny bit inebriated. Itachi had been twice as drunk as Jiraya, so they had waited a day to actually sign the contracts and only had yet to finalize the agreement. Something in the handsome CEO's demeanor suggested he had something more that money to gain by the venture, and that something had nagged at the back of Jiraya's mind all night, and had only grown more insistent with sobriety. Still, there was no easy way to back out of an agreement with Uchiha Itachi.

He prayed he had made the right decision.

He didn't want to consider the ramifications if he hadn't.

Ten floors stocked with cubicles, office monkeys, harried assistants, and genius designers below Jiraya's office at _Icha Icha Headquarters_, Naruto pulled a button down shirt over his head, mussing the carefully gelled spikes. He still had five minutes to get from hair and makeup to the elevator across the floor, and down three stories to the basement photo shoot sets. Five minutes to say hi to all his friends, dodge the hair stylists and their addiction to hair gel, duck the makeup artists and their "one more second" to perfection, and arrive in front of the camera looking calm, cool and collected.

Previous record: 2 minutes, fifteen seconds.

He glanced at his watch before opening the door.

Getting past the makeup artists was easy, once he learned the trick to it. As long as they didn't see his face, they didn't see anything worth fixing before his pictures. He quickly spotted the snack cart, on its usual route back to the kitchen for restocking, and dove into a shoulder roll behind it just as it rolled past the land of foundation. With such a tasty cover, Naruto sailed past them without so much as a puff of powder and managed to snag a donut for his troubles.

He crammed the pastry in his mouth and ran his clean hand through his hair, mussing the spikes further before stepping into hair territory. All the photographers "preferred" the natural look, so, with luck, Naruto could make it through the land of gel with little more than a quick dusting of hairspray. As the snack cart rolled off toward the freight elevator, Narutosearched for another cover.

There! An older secretary struggled with an enormous bag and a stack of papers threatening to cascade into an off white blizzard. Naruto half ran over to her, recued the stack, and bent to talk to her while they sailed past the hairstylists. Thanks to his "little old lady" screen, they never caught so much as a glimpse of him.

Even encumbered by the secretary's papers, it took him less than thirty seconds to get to the elevator. The doors slid closed with a cheerful _ding! _and he began the descent. Forty eight seconds later, including the pause at ground level for the secretary to disembark, the doors dinged again before gliding open.

If hair and makeup was chaotic, set was pure bedlam. Though technically only one floor, the "basement" functioned much like a ware house, with high ceilings girded in metal I beams and smooth cement floors. The gigantic space housed twelve subdivisions, portioned off by moveable walls of varying heights. Six of the spaces, scattered to all corners of the floor, housed photo shoots, while the others functioned as storage for props or remained empty.

Naruto's destination, Set 5, was just across the main hallway from the elevator bank. He was almost home free, and almost a whole minute ahead of his previous record. He could almost taste victory.

A familiar voice drifted down the hall, carrying above the general commotion. As Naruto paused to allow a dolly laden with lights roll past, he searched the crowd for the source and was rewarded with a glimpse of a spiky brown ponytail bobbing his way.

Umino Iruka, secretary, agent, p.r. wiz, modeling coach, and moral support, was performing one of his many miscellaneous duties: tour guide.

Naturally, anything associated with the Icha Icha enterprise would draw a crowd, but combined with beautiful models, the allure become irresistible. The demand grew beyond Iruka's capacity though, so he hired a special tour guide to cover the responsibilities and run crowd control in the form of ticket only tours. At first Jiraya moaned about the extra expense but as soon as he saw how much revenue increased. He let the matter drop. Unfortunately, the man was out sick, so the duties landed back on Iruka.

Naruto frowned, annoyed that his friend was too busy to come to the shoot. Iruka had never missed even one of Naruto's photo shoots and the blond immediately set about finding a way to free Iruka from "the mobs of screaming fan girls".

When his genius plan finally hit him, he couldn't help but congratulate himself on the sheer brilliance.

"Iruka!" he called, yelling to be heard over the hubbub. "Oy! Iruka!"

"Naruto?" Iruka seemed flustered. "Now's not really a good time. You see I'm in the middle of—" Iruka tried to explain, pulling Naruto off to the side and dropping his voice to a whisper.

"Giving another mob of fan girls…or should I say fan boys a tour. I know, but listen. My shoot is starting in two minutes, and you can't miss it, okay Iruka? So why don't you give these-" Naruto gestured at the group behind Iruka, no patiently waiting for their guide to stop chit chatting with a random guy "the time of their life and bring them with?"

"Naruto, I can't just drag them to watch hours of you posing. I know I'm letting you down, but let me make it up to you with Ichiraku's tonight. "

"One moment, Iruka-san." A man from the group interrupted Iruka's bargaining, his soft voice somehow commanding attention. He was tall and thin, good looking, and dressed in an expensive suit obviously tailored to flatter him perfectly. He radiated a calm sense of power, and he obviously knew it without seeming arrogant. Noting this, Naruto instantly disliked him. Men in suits were more irritating than fan girls. They always wanted money, or power, or some excuse to exploit him, and were relentless.

Usually Iruka wouldn't let them past the front door.

"Given the nature of things, I'm not certain watching the core production of this establishment at work would be a waste of time. In fact, if the involved are willing, I would like to insist upon such an exhibition."

"A-as you wish, Uchiha-san." Iruka stuttered, flushing bright red. "Uh, which studio were you going to, Naruto? When does the shoot start?"

"In 5, and it starts…" he glanced at his watch. "Shit! Two minutes ago! I'll see you on set!" Naruto dashed off, sprinting headlong into the crowd and disappearing through a door marked with a bold 5.

"You're late." The room was completely dark. Not even the set lights were on, which was odd in itself. Usually they had to warm up a bit before they gave off the appropriate levels of luminance.

"You're one to talk, Kakashi-san. It's not like you haven't been late ever."

"True. But you are later than my late, thereby making me _early_." Disdain at the concept was obvious in his voice. The lights snapped on with a metallic clang, revealing the bored photographer perched on his customary stool. A shock of silver white hair—whether it was that color naturally or if he dyed it Naruto never could determine—covered one eye. A black turtleneck paired with a high collared vest obscured the entirety of his lower face and neck. Fingerless gloves and tight black jeans completed the outfit and added to the "artistic genius with social inhibitions" look.

"Can we drop the whole 'on time' thing and just get on with the pictures?" Naruto groaned. The silver haired photographer never seemed serious when not behind the camera. He liked to argue about everything and anything, and usually won by simply confusing the hell out of his opponents. Namely Naruto.

"Why is it that you're never in the mood for semantics?" Kakashi sighed, gesturing dismissively. "Come on then, let's see what you got."

Naruto rolled his eyes and stepped onto the set. For this particular shoot, it was nothing fancy, just a pure white floor and backdrop doused by 15,000 watts of lights and several dozen shades designed to amplify the reflected lights back on the subject. The goal of the session was merely to get a decent shot for the cover of the next catalogue, and perhaps a few useable shots for the newspaper ads.

With all the lights in his face, Naruto could barely see Kakashi's outline a few feet in front of him, much less the group filing in through the main doors to the set. Kakashi's violent double take alerted him to their entrance, however, and he ran forward to explain before the temperamental artist attempted to throw them out of the studio.

"Kakashi! I asked Iruka to bring them…it's a group of…of…" he started, then trailed off, unsure quite how to categorize the tourists.

"Future partners." Iruka supplied. "Uchiha-san is finalizing a deal with Jiraya later this afternoon, and is touring the facilities."

"And he's interrupting my photo shoot." Kakashi sent the force of his glare into the words, certain they couldn't see his face against the blinding backlighting of the set.

"Apologies, Hatake-san. When Naruto mentioned that he was working with you, I jumped at the chance to see you work. Your photos are nearly legendary." Itachi once again exercised his impressive combination of charm and authority in an attempt to soothe Kakashi. The photographer wasn't impressed.

"Really? Do you have a favorite, Uchiha-san?"

"The series of prints from your time in Italy, the ones posted on your webpage. The one that stood out the most to me was of the courtyard. Your eye for an enrapturing shot is uncanny, and the angle couldn't be better." Itachi answered.

"Hmph. Fine, they may stay. But if you distract that knucklehead—" Kakashi jerked a shadowed thumb at Naruto "I'll be forced to throw you off my set." His invisible grin suggested that he would thoroughly enjoy doing just that.

Itachi and his cohort of suits found themselves seats on the spare props and settled in for a long viewing.

"Pay close attention to this Naruto, Sasuke. He may seem an imbecile, but there's something about him that appeals to the sectors you have yet to win over. Learn from him. Understand?"

"Hnn."

"Now, that we've got everything in order, we have a few housekeeping details to go over, and we're all set. Jiraya?" Tsunade shoved the signed papers into her assistant Shizune's hands as she spoke.

"I expect you are already aware of this, but it is traditional for your first few shoots to be done with Naruto, my grandson. He was our first model, and it's become a tradition of sorts for the newbies to start out with him. Also, I'll expect you to be punctual and courteous to all my staff. I don't tolerate divas." Jiraya sighed.

"I think that covers it for now. All that's left is for us to seal the deal with a few drinks. Shall we meet at Niku tonight? Say 7:00?" When the others nodded assent, Jiraya stood, shook each of their hands across the table one more time, and watched them file stoically out the glass door. Once they disappeared down the hall, Jiraya sank back into his chair with a sigh.

"Not our typical contract signing." Tsunade shuffled the papers into a neat stack as she spoke. Satisfied they were orderly, She deposited them on top of the growing mountain already in Shizune's arms.

"It will be good for business, Jiraya-san. Sasuke will bring his fanbase with him, which will be good for sales." Shizune added, sensing Jiraya's doubt.

"It's not that. Itachi's up to something. The Uchihas don't move like this, don't do business like this. Something's not quite right, and I want to know what it is." Jiraya rested his head on his hand and stared at the poster sized blowups of previous _Icha Icha Fashion_ covers. Naruto's brilliant blue eyes beamed at him over that ridiculously goofy smile the girls—and boys—all found so charming.

"Good luck, kiddo." Jiraya said to the picture. "I get the feeling you're gonna need it."

"You will not be going."

"I'm an adult, Itachi. You can't legally stop me."

"I can fire you. If you go, you do not have a job."

"What's the point of a dinner to celebrate our new partnership if I can't even go?" Sasuke sprawled on Itachi's bed at the hotel, his head hanging over the side as he stared at the ceiling. Itachi was sedately selecting a fresh suit for dinner from a closet fully stocked with them. To Sasuke, they all looked identical, but Itachi contested the subtle differences in cut and pattern altered his effect on people.

"The point, little brother, is for me to seal the deal with my new business partner. In all contractual regards, you are chattel. I would not take a shipment of silks, no matter how fine, to dinner with the man buying them."

"So now I'm a shipment of silks?" Sasuke thumped his head against the side of the bed in frustration.

"Sasuke." Without turning Itachi managed to convey the glare and the accompanying warning that Sasuke was pushing it.

"Whatever. Have fun at your dinner, I'm going to go shower." Sasuke rolled off the bed and trudged to the bathroom, slamming the flimsy door dramatically behind him. Itachi sighed. Sometimes Sasuke made him wonder if it was really worthwhile to be his manager. Adjusting his tie one last time in the mirror and straightening his tie clip, Itachi finally deemed himself ready.

He turned at the last moment, fingers barely resting on the door knob, and stared at the closed bathroom door. The tiny Uchiha fan, now perfectly aligned on his tie, caught the overhead lights and reflected a tiny spotlight onto the bathroom door. Itachi listened to the sound of running water for a moment.

"I promised them, otouto. Never again. If your hatred is what I get for that, so be it."

Itachi sighed again, as if the action might relieve the weight of his plans. Allowing himself that one moment of weakness was enough to threaten his resolve, so Itachi quashed the feeling, squared his shoulders, and left the hotel room behind with little more than a slight tingling of anxiety.

Even Sasuke wasn't thick enough to try _that_ again so soon.

Jiraya noticed a difference in Itachi the moment the man entered the restaurant. He seemed older, and strained by some great trouble. There was a tiredness in the lines about his eyes and his welcoming smile seemed less irresistible. Despite all this, Itachi's voice had evey ounce of his usual charm, and his words were as smooth as ever.

"Hello Jiraya-san, Tsunade-san."

"Itachi! Sit down, I hope you don't mind but we started the drinks early!" Tsunade gestured for him to sit down from her chair. She somehow declined to rise when Jiraya had to greet Itachi, and made the slight seem perfectly natural. Itachi credited the empty bottle before her for the lack of judgment.

"Where's Sasuke? Shouldn't he be coming?" Jiraya mused aloud.

"He will not be joining us. Sasuke is quite exhausted from such an exciting day and is eager to start modeling for _Icha Icha Fashion_ in the morning. He decided to abstain from this celebration in order to rest for tomorrow, but sends his greetings and enthusiasm for our new relationship." Itachi answered, taking a wine glass proffered by a waiter and wishing it was something stronger. What did a man have to do to get vodka?

Sasuke flopped on the bed and flipped on the TV, fully prepared for a long movie night. Armed with all the popcorn room service could find, a 12-pack of soda, and unlimited access to pay-per-view, he brushed a few strands of wet hair from his face, adjusted his bathrobe for ultimate comfort, and began to search for the first movie.

Itachi found him in much the same state, minus five cans of soda, three bags of popcorn, and with drier hair, five movies into his marathon. It was after three a.m. Surveying the scene with a critical eye and a mind far more sober than it ought to be, Itachi fought the urge to shout obscenities at his brother. Instead, he calmly walked to the TV, pressed the power button with perhaps a bit more force than necessary, and silenced Sasuke's protests with a single word.

"Bed."

When that failed to evoke the desired reaction, Itachi expanded the thought.

"Now."

"Hn." Sasuke started searching for pajamas while Itachi cleaned up the aftermath. Normally obsessive about separating trash from recycling, Itachi simply brushed all the remnants into the waste bin. Turning to his shrine to business attire, Itachi hung his jacket up, removed his tie pin and placed it on the counter, returned his tie to its hanger, folded his shirt and pants and placed them on the top shelf before dropping his undershirt into a pop up hamper. His pajama consisted of a plain black oversized T-shirt, decorated only with an Uchiha fan on the back, and a pair of long gray lounge pants.

Where Itachi was almost compulsive in his routine, Sasuke simply tossed his robe on the floor, pulled on the nearest pair of sweats he could find, and crawled into his bed. After sitting so long in one place, the cool sheets were blessedly cool. Sasuke glanced over just in time to see Itachi make a face at the warmth of his own bed and flick a few more crumbs from the comforter before settling in.

"Sleep, Sasuke." Itachi stretched one willowy arm to turn out the lights, plunging the room into complete darkness.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep Beep.

Beep Beep BEEP.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEE-

Sasuke groaned and buried his head under the foam pillow, which did nothing to cancel the sound. Thankfully Itachi was a light sleeper and managed to smack the alarm into silence quickly.

"You have fifteen minutes, Sasuke. If you are not out of bed by then I will personally drag you into a cold shower." Itachi disappeared into the bathroom to take his own shower, and the small room soon echoed with the sounds of running water, and the chipper voices of early morning dj's. Sasuke hated anyone who was that happy at 6:30 am, mostly because his brother liked them.

Releasing an aggravated growl, Sasuke threw his pillow at the bathroom wall and kicked his blankets down. With a great deal of effort, he managed to drag himself from the comfort of his warm bed into a cold armchair. Itachi had let his breakfast options arranged in a neat semi-circle, knowing Sasuke would lack the motivation to get out of the chair, even for food, so early in the morning. A box of cereal on the far right, a piece of toast that was cooling slowly even as Sasuke debated, and a paper menu weighted down by the room phone.

Sasuke chose room service.

"Good, you made it out of bed, and took the extra initiative to order breakfast."

"Hnn. Well the other options were cardboard in a box or ancient bread in hockey puck form."

"I know mornings are not 'your thing' but this is a new level of grouchy." Itachi said, pulling on some running shoes.

"Yeah, well, three and a half hours of sleep will do that to you."

"Well, perhaps in the future you will refrain from staying up until three in the morning watching movies the night before a photo shoot." Itachi finished lacing his shoes and stood, somehow imposing and authoritative even in his work out clothes.

"You aren't coming with me?"

"No, Jiraya wants you to come alone today, to see how you work 'without direction'. So I am going for a run, and then to the gym down the street for a bit. I will stop by late this afternoon to take a look at your film, and we shall plan the rest of the day from there."

"And how'm I supposed to get to the building? If you aren't going to drive…"

"Jiraya is sending a car at 7:30. Now answer the door and eat. You do not have much time to get ready."

"Damn you, Itachi. Damn you beyond the deepest circles of hell, you bastard. I will get revenge for this. Damn you." Sasuke stared at his reflection in the full length mirror. The stylists saw fit to emphasize his natural hair style by flat ironing it and then gelling it back into its usual shape. Suddenly everything about his hair seemed sharper, more dangerous. His makeup artists took their cues from it, using subtle colors to add to the aura of danger. Combined with an a screen printed T-shirt covered in graffiti and stone washed jeans, he looked exactly like one of Jiraya's stereotypical "bad boys."

He felt like a poser.

Despite his misgivings, he knew he looked good, perhaps even _really _good, and that would draw fans, which would generate more money, which would make Itachi happy. Sasuke simply hated that he had to look like someone else to accomplish that.

But it had always been that way.

The first outfit wasn't the cause of his cursing, however, but Sasuke bit his tongue on the issue after his one brief outburst. He decided to wait out the first shoot before complaining about his wardrobe.

"Five minutes, Sasuke! Remember, Set 3, okay?" Iruka called through the door. Sasuke could almost feel the man waiting for an answer for a tense moment before moving on. With a tortured sigh, and another silent promise to strangle Itachi for getting him into this, Sasuke pulled his door open.

As he took the first step into the hall, a spiked golden blur nearly collided with him. Taken aback, Sasuke recoiled slightly, and stared after the figure. A pair of shockingly blue eyes met his as the man glanced back, an apology falling from smiling lips tinted a dusky rose.

Sasuke slumped against the door frame, pensive for a moment before straightening and following the man toward the elevators, and hours of reasons to familiarize himself with that golden visage.

Uzumaki Naruto had suddenly become very, very…

Interesting.


	2. Live Life With No Regrets

As I was reading some of your lovely reviews (hint hint…) I realized I forgot something in the last chapter.

But none of you really thought I owned Naruto, did you?

"Live Life with No Regrets"

Sasuke missed catching the same elevator as Naruto by an instant. The blond had shouted something about a time crunch and a record before slamming the "Door Close" button, leaving the Uchiha doomed to either take the stairs or be late for his first photo shoot with _Icha Icha Fashion._

Suddenly, Uzumaki Naruto was very, very, annoying.

Slightly winded and covered in a thin layer of sweat from running down so many stairs swathed in so many layers of "pure fashion genius," Sasuke leaned against the door to Set Three in a last minute attempt to maintain the infamous Uchiha cool. Once certain he was suitably aloof, Sasuke opened the door. Instantly a spotlight snapped on, blinding him, and he threw up his arms to shield his abused eyes.

A rapidly clicking told him the photographer, at least, was somewhere behind this childish assault.

"Good, good. See, Naruto? That's real surprise, real passion! This is why the ladies love him. Even pissed as hell he's simply gorgeous!" Ebisu ranted, finally dimming the lights and allowing Sasuke to see. Behind the strange looking photographer, a silver stool sat empty, and beyond it, a small urban block seemed to have been recreated. False brick walls were tagged with graffiti, the stone worn by years of weather. A rusted fire escape snaked up the side of one, barely attached by bolts more oxide than iron.

In short, the set was perhaps the most realistic thing Sasuke had seen.

Ebisu settled on the stool, pushing his glasses back up his nose and adjusting them. Naruto whispered something that Sasuke couldn't quite make out, which made Ebisu flush and adjust his glasses again. The pair continued to stare at him. Sasuke unleashed the Uchiha glare.

_Damn those piercing eyes…could he see something beyond the façade?_ Sasuke unconsciously adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, making sure his wrists were fully covered, then tugged down the hem too. _What did Itachi tell them?_

"You're in my chair, Ebisu." Kakashi placed a gloved hand on the other's shoulder. No one had seen him enter, and all three jumped as he spoke. Kakashi inwardly congratulated himself on a sufficiently dramatic entrance.

"Kakashi-sensei! I'm sorry…I was just…meeting Uchiha Sasuke."

"In my chair. Well, Now that we all know each other, let's get on with it. Sasuke, Naruto?

"Oh, Sauske, my name is Hatake Kakashi. This is my set. They are _all_ my sets. On set, I am god. Off set, I am a simple genius. You can call me Kakashi. You do as I say, we'll get along just great. Screw with me and not even the Hyuuga Investigators will be able to find your dead body. "

Sasuke and Naruto both froze in midstep and stared at Kakashi, eyes wide with shock. With almost inhuman speed, Kakashi grabbed his camera and snapped a photo.

"Damn if that won't make a great Christmas card." Kakashi smiled broadly, eyes turning into thin crescents. Once again a vest obscured the lower part of his face, leaving much of his expression to the all too vivid imaginations of the teens. More than a little discomfited, the pair made their way to the set and proceeded to loaf awkwardly. Naruto leaned against a fake fire escape, careful not to rest too much of his weight on the structure just in case the bolts weren't quite secure. Sasuke tucked his hands in his pockets and slouched, looking bored.

"Really? Is that the best you've got?" Kakashi snapped a half dozen photos, then reviewed them on his tablet.

Shot 1: Sasuke scowling at his feet, Naruto's eyes closed, neither looking at the camera.

Shot 2: Sasuke starts to look up, Naruto starts to scratch his head.

Shot 3: Sasuke unleashes the death glare. Naruto continues scratching.

Shot 4: The glare intensifies. Naruto begins to open his eyes.

Shot 5: If looks could kill, Kakashi would be the victim of quadruple homicide. Naruto smiles.

Shot 6: Sasuke rolls his eyes. Naruto laughs.

"If this is the best you can do, Mr. Uchiha, I'm afraid you aren't going to be long for the world of Icha Icha fashion."

"Hn."

"Oi! Kakashi-sensei! You haven't even told us what you want yet. Don't give him such a hard time. Besides, he's a newbie. You can't expect that much."

"It's my first day _here, _dobe. Not my first time modeling. I've done more shoots than you've drawn breaths." Sasuke suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Again.

"Hey, teme, you're the dobe. Making Kakashi-sensei angry on the first day."

"Ladies! You're both pretty, now quiet down and let Kakashi work." Iruka intervened before Kakashi could make good on his threat of murder.

"Well, seasoned _professionals_ like you shouldn't have any problems getting the shots I want. This week's theme is more of an edgy street fight. So, fight." Kakashi's eyes crinkled again.

"Naruto! Don't hurt Uchiha-san!"

"Hai. I'll try not to." Before Sasuke could wonder what Iruka meant by the warning, Naruto took a swing at his face. Sasuke dodged reflexively, but Naruto swung wide deliberately. _So that's his game, _Sasuke thought. _Shadow boxing._ Getting into the spirit, he "fought" back, angling his attacks so that, from Kakashi's vantage, it looked genuine.

As if from a distance, Sasuke heard Kakashi muttering, Iruka's muffled comments, and Ebisu's scandalized gasps, but all sound faded beneath the rushing of his own blood. Even false, something about fighting Naruto took hold of Sasuke and he lost himself in the feeling. Without thinking he grabbed Naruto's fist as the blond punched. Sasuke twisted the captured arm down and used it to leverage the blond back against one of the fake brick walls.

For an instant, their bodies were flush from chest to thigh, their faces millimeters apart. Sasuke could feel the planes of Naruto's chest against his, the blond's hot breath on his lips. His heart hammering against his ribs added t the sound of rushing blood in his ears, and his field of vision narrowed until the only thing in his conscious was Naruto.

An instant later, the moment shattered as Naruto swore and escaped the hold by throwing Sasuke against the opposite wall of the pseudo alley, knocking the wind from him. Sasuke glared up at him, while Naruto smiled triumphantly.

XxXxXxX

That week's cover featured an incredible shot of Sasuke flying backwards through the air, his back arched in a way that suggested both grace and power. His face angled slightly towards the camera, and his eyes held a menace that suggested the fight was far from over. Even the shape of his hands implied a hidden strength. Near the bottom of the frame, Naruto was following through with the attack. With his back to the camera, the muscles of his torso outlined in the contours of his shirt, the blond seemed an oasis of strength. Despite the absence of his charming face, the picture still radiated Naruto's self-assurance, and showcased a tougher side of the model that had the fan girls melting.

_Ultimate Clash: Uzumaki v. Uchiha_

"_In the ultimate showdown, world renowned Uchiha Sasuke met Icha Icha's Uzumaki Naruto in a full out, drop down, standoff. Will this spell the end for what could have been the most powerful modeling duo ever to step in front of the lens?"_

Jiraya let the issue fall to his desk with an exaggerated sigh. Tsunade glanced up from the paperwork she was pretending to complete and waited for an explanation.

"I thought getting Uchiha on the staff would boost sales, not tabloid columns."

"There's no such thing as bad press. Only favorable and unpalatable."

"That's all well and good, Tsunade, but I don't want this Uchiha interfering with Naruto's career."

"I'm sure Itachi feels the same way about Naruto and Sasuke's career. Don't worry too much yet. Have a drink and see where this goes."

XxXxXxX

The day after the issue went public, Naruto plopped in a chair near the right edge of the lecture hall. With all the experiments the teacher performed, the front row was as dangerous as the splash seats at a Blue Man Group performance, but he wanted to be close enough to see. Shikamaru dozed in the seat next to him, hand still clutching a pencil. A solved integral, complex enough that Naruto couldn't even begin to comprehend it, sprawled across the page in Shikamaru's obsessively small script.

"Oy, Shika. Did you sleep here?" Naruto leaned over and poked the genius in the shoulder.

"Ugh, Naruto? You're not in…ugh. I slept here? What a drag." Shikamaru wiped the sleep from his eyes with the back of his sleeve and sat up.

"What? Was going home too troublesome?"

"Nah, I had to finish this problem before I could leave last night."

"Hey! Naruto! Naruto!" Naruto spun around to face the source. Some of the girls from Icha Icha, Sakura and Ino, were hailing him from the door way. Naruto waved and turned back to Shikamaru.

"So what, you just never left?" He prompted.

"Hey! Naruto!" Sakura shouted.

"Get your sorry ass up here!" Ino added.

"What a drag." Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Go on. I've been here all night, I'll still be here when you get back."

The girls started yelling before he even reached them.

"How dare you hurt Sasuke!" Sakura screeched, fury rolling off her in waves. Ino grabbed Naruto by the arm and shoved him against the nearest wall, heedless of the glassware stored on the built in shelves. Naruto gulped inwardly at the ominous glass clinking, and hoped that the girls didn't get too violent. He didn't relish the idea of pulling glass out of his back, or explaining why he couldn't do the next issue to Kakashi.

"Umm…" he stammered. "I don't really know what you mean, Sakura. Ino."

"This!" The girls slammed the issue into his nose, under the belief that by literally gluing his eyeballs to it, he'd be able to see it better.

"Oh..." Naruto muttered as he pulled the issue to a readable distance. "That."

"Yes, that!" The girls chorused.

"It's just for show. You know, wires, and mirrors, and junk. It's not real. Look at the rest of the film. You'll see. It's just a fake." Naruto lied smoothly, hoping to escape further public upbraiding.

"Then why is Sasuke-kun hiding? He hasn't been to work in days." Ino whined.

"Umm, I dunno. He hasn't been scheduled?"

_Slap!_

"If he wasn't scheduled, why was Kakashi-sensei looking for him? Huh?" Sakura attempted to throttle him as she yelled.

"What the hell Sakura?" Naruto pushed her off him, starting to get irritated. "Like I know what Kakashi is thinking any more than you do. Why don't you ask him instead of beating me."

Sakura and Ino paused and exchanged a glance. Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she intended to say was lost to the call of "Hey, Ino! Sakura! Look at this!" A brunette Naruto didn't know came running their way.

"I found…pant…a video…huff huff…like you asked." She sighed, pressing a button on her tablet and angling the screen so they all could see.

On it, in a very tiny, blurry, and virtually useless video showed a dark haired man in a suit pushing his way through a crowd followed by a familiar looking raven haired teen. Said teen sported a black eye and several bruises on his face and neck.

"Naruto!" The last thing the blond saw was a fist heading his way. A hush fell over the room as the sound of breaking glass breached the commotion.

XxXxXxX

Perching in front of his computer, Kakashi studied the film from the first session with Uchiha while he drank his afternoon tea. Alone in his "office," a small room converted into a hybrid darkroom/lounge/photo editing software heaven, he slung his vest carelessly over the back of a chair. Blowing gently on the steaming tea before taking the first sip, he scrolled through the thumbnails.

Most of the early shots were unusable, and a full quarter of the film was wasted, blurred pictures taken by Ebisu before the models even arrived on set. Silently vowing to strangle him, Kakashi advanced to the last fifty shots. Setting the viewer to "slideshow," he amused himself by letting the pictures change automatically, and watched the boys shift from obviously fake punches to a genuine brawl in slow-motion stop action.

Every few frames he paused and enlarged Sasuke's face to study the range of expressions, learning exactly what his new tool could do. At first, obvious confusion clouded the endless obsidian eyes of fan girls' dreams, but that quickly faded into confidence and self-assurance as he caught on. Then the fight devolved into actual fisticuffs, and everything changed.

Kakashi paused on the one shot where Sasuke had Naruto pinned against the fire escape, practically nose to nose, and felt a smile growing on his face.

"Itachi, you cunning bastard."

XxXxXxX

Naruto slumped on the common room couch, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his face. Shikamaru sprawled across the rest of the cushions, his feet stretching above Naruto's lap to rest on the arm, head resting on his crossed forearms. They had maintained the same position for the better part of an hour, and Naruto's peas were melted beyond any degree of usefulness.

"So she really hit you. And the video wasn't even recent." Shikamaru drawled, chewing on a toothpick.

"What!" Naruto started forward, disrupting Shikamaru's repose and forcing him to sit up.

"Yeah. That video you saw is from almost a year ago."

Naruto fell back with a groan and was rewarded with pea-sweat in his bruised eye. Cursing, he leapt to his feet, alternating rubbing his eye and wincing at the pain of touching it.

"Shit. What happened to you blondie?" Kiba paused en route to his dorm and ogled the enormous black and blue mark marring Naruto's left eye. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, dog breath. I'm fine. No, no permanent damage done."

"Would you two dispense with the arguing? You're so troublesome." Shikamaru flopped back down on the couch, leaving Naruto no room to sit.

"What happened?" Kiba asked, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Are you going to be okay for this weekend?" Kiba served as Naruto's training partner cum coach for his mixed Martial Art tournaments. Though he lacked personal experience, Kiba's father was quite successful, and he had grown up around the sport. Blood, missing teeth, broken bones, and all.

"Yeah. But it's not the tournament I'm worried about. Ero-Sennin is gonna kill me when he sees this." Naruto collapsed into one of the adjacent chairs.

"Shit. That shoot's this weekend too?"

"Yep. All day Saturday."

"Sometimes Icha Icha can be such a drag."

"You're just mad 'cause all you ever get to wear is the business suits." Kiba taunted.

"'Cause I _really_ wanted to run around shirtless with you clowns. Under those lights? I don't think so." Shikamaru closed his eyes and folded his hands across his chest.

"Any hope of you getting out of it?" Kiba continued.

"None. It's the annual shoot. It _has_ to come out next week or Jiraya will murder me twice. Plus, have you seen Kakashi angry?"

"No."

"Well I have." Naruto shuddered, recalling the memory.

_In the early days, before the high rise building, before the basement studios, and before Kakashi had unlimited access to cameras, Naruto did the stupidest thing he could have possibly done. While showing off some of his "awesome new moves" he landed a roundhouse kick straight into the lens of Kakashi's baby, a camera he called "Pakkun."_

_ It toppled from the stand and shattered into dozens of pieces of broken glass, cracked plastic, and a pair of thumbnail sized lithium batteries. The echos of the cataclysm died as the door closed behind Kakashi. With a speed Naruto hadn't known the man possessed, Kakashi crossed the room and cradled the wreckage, heedless of the sharp edges and shards. Kakashi's eyes narrowed into a glare, and Naruto would later swear that storm clouds covered in streaks of lightning formed behind him._

_ "You…" Kakashi intoned._

_ Without waiting for further reaction, Naruto bolted, running from Jiraya's garage like the hounds of hell were upon him. He made certain to stay as far away as possible from Kakashi's subsequent cameras, especially the one named "Obito."_

"It isn't pretty." Naruto concluded with a shudder.

"Come on, there's a steak in my fridge with your name on it, Naruto. Peas aren't going to get you anywhere near getting rid of that shiner.

XxXxXxX

"Well, Sasuke, what have you got to say for yourself?"

"…"

"Answer me, Sasuke!"

_Click. _

Sasuke let the cellphone slide out of his hand and drop to the bed before he slammed his head against the wall.

"Ughh." He sighed.

"Rough day?" Itachi appeared in the doorway, hands covered in flour though the rest of him was immaculate. Though typical for Itachi, it somehow irritated Sasuke further.

"I told him you wouldn't want to talk. Having a picture of your first day plastered on every surface around the world is reproof enough. Especially when you get your sorry butt handed to you."

"Go die, Itachi."

"You first, little brother. It's just a picture."

"How would you like it if some…some _dobe_ lands one lucky shot on you and your reputation was ruined?"

"My legal team would never let a "_dobe_" land a hit. And in the unlikely event that they failed on that count, I would personally sue the persons responsible for besmirching my name. That is how life works, in my world. That is how Uchiha Itachi handles problems. Is this how Uchiha Sasuke does it? Moping in bed and whining?"

"Go die, Itachi."

"The cake in the oven would not appreciate me doing that."

"My career is over, and you're making a cake? Sadistic bastard."

"No, you've hit a rough patch and I'm making a cake to celebrate your impending solution. Think about it. You have forty-five minutes."

Sasuke glared at him and rolled his eyes.

"And how the hell am I supposed to solve this? I can't make the picture go away."

"Nope. Making the picture disappear is definitely out of the question." Itachi sat on the corner of the bed, his levity evaporating. "But look at the situation beyond the picture. You got your sorry ass handed to you by a blond supermodel."

"Male model. Don't make me out to be a total loser."

"See? It could have been worse. The man kicking your ass could be someone other than the reigning mixed martial arts semi-professional champion."

"What?" Sasuke sat up and stared at Itachi.

"I swear, if you're lying—"

"Uzumaki Naruto competes at the semi-professional level in mixed martial arts. He is the reigning champion of his division. He also attends the college here, the one in which you shall enroll shortly, majoring in…Kinesthesia and Physics."

"Kinesthesia?"

"It's the applied study of how the human body moves and functions at the physical level. Generally, it's the foundation for sports medicine."

"Hn."

"Your _dobe_ also graduated high school at the top of his class, despite several lengthy hospitalizations for a chronic illness of an indeterminate nature."

"How do you know all this?" Sasuke interrupted, suddenly nervous. School records were one thing, but medical records were confidential, almost impossible to access.

"So, back to your problem. Knowing all this, suddenly, it isn't so embarrassing to be beaten by him." Itachi fixed his strongest 'And you were worried this would destroy your career you silly insecure kid' smile on Sasuke and waited.

"You didn't answer my question."

"No. I didn't, did I. Oh well." Itachi stood and headed for the door, crossing the small room in a few strides.

"What would you do, in my position?" Sasuke blurted. Itachi stopped in the door way and thought for a moment before glancing back over his shoulder, not even a hint of the elation he felt gracing his lips. Sometimes manipulating Sasuke was too easy.

"In your place, I would join the dojo down the street and get back in fighting form."

"I can't just waltz back into that life. It's been five years, Itachi. "

The elder Uchiha stared pointedly at Sasuke's wrists, hidden within his long sleeved shirt, while answering.

"Yes Sasuke, it has been five years. And life goes on."

"Itachi—" A timer in the en suite kitchen cut him off.

"Ah, that'll be the cake. Come on, it's best when it's warm." Itachi beckoned before disappearing around the corner.

By the time Sasuke got to the kitchen, Itachi had rescued the cake from the oven and was in the process of freeing it from the pan. Once the dessert was free, Sasuke couldn't help but stare.

"That's not cake." In fact, the only resemblance the thing bore to a cake was a vaguely circular shape, and the way Itachi was slicing it. At best, it was a demented cousin of the turnover crossbred with the lovechild of pie and soufflé. As Itachi cut, layers of fillings were revealed, separated by layers of pastry of varying thicknesses. It was a work of art, and rather disturbing.

"Do you have a better descriptor?"

"Hn."

"That's what I thought. Now shut up and eat your cake."

"Is this one of those things you learned in Barcelona? When you disappeared for a year?"

"No. I learned this in Paris, from —a friend."

"Right."

"Shut up, and eat." The brothers fell into companionable silence, the only sounds the clinking of cutlery and their chewing.

"Sometimes, you're an idiot." Sasuke said abruptly.

"Then enlighten me. Why?" Itachi shot back between bites, eyes locked in his "no nonsense or I'll beat the answer I want out of you" stare.

"I can't just forget it. I can't go back to who I used to be. I'm not that Sasuke anymore."

"Good. That Sasuke was part of the reason I left." Itachi continued eating. Sasuke leapt to his feet and hurled his plate at Itachi's head. The elder Uchiha avoided it easily by leaning slightly to the left, and it shattered on the cabinets behind him. Sasuke stormed into the bed room and slammed the door. With a sigh, Itachi stared at the closed door for a long moment before turning his attention to the mess spattered across his cabinets and floor. The broken edges of the plate managed to damage the varnish and chip the wood underneath. Itachi mentally added sandpaper and varnish to his "To Do" list.

"This, Sasuke, is the reason I came back. I have no regrets." Itachi continued, addressing the empty room. "None."

XxXxXxXxX

A/N: After subjecting my testing audience to this chapter (thank you!), I felt adding a slight disclaimer would help to clarify something and avoid angering a lot of you. Sasuke isn't cutting himself. The scars are from something else. He's not the stereotypical emo depressed kid that he frequently becomes in stories like this. Something seriously traumatic happened to him at the height of his career, and he's still not over it. So. Save your flames for marshmallows if they were regarding that. Otherwise, bring on the fire. (Which is not to encourage you to…I'm rambling again, aren't I?. Never mind.) Sorry to ruin what I'm sure would have been several really, really good rants.

Oh! If you have a request for a specific photo shoot theme/location I'll try to incorporate it. I'm open to suggestions. I've gotten one so far for a preppy/ polo shirts and upper class causal wear shoot of undetermined location. Be as vague or specific (I like nonspecific details) as you wish. Sign in, be anonymous. Whatever slices your banana. So. Till next time!

Reviews make me happy. Happy me makes chapters. Chapters need reviews.

See where this is going?


	3. From Paris With a Plan

Beach Boys

Sasuke arrived on campus early on his first day, feeling much, he suspected, like a feeder fish just before dropping into a tank of Betas. Death was inevitable. Pain, unavoidable. But he kept walking. It was a fresh start. A second chance. Well, to be accurate, a second second chance, halfway around the world, away from everyone who knew.

It was just as he told Itachi: he wasn't the same person anymore, and there was no turning back.

At least here, there would be no pitying glances, no feigned concern. No press coverage endeavoring to chart the effects of…of _it_ on him. The effects of _them._

Here, no swarms of photographers dogged his every step, waiting for him to make some sort of mistake, some small change, so they could call in the psychologists and feature an hour long special on how his life was slowly falling apart.

Though 'slowly' wasn't quite the word Sasuke would choose, if anyone bothered to ask him.

No one back home knew where he'd gone, besides his parents, only that he'd transferred to a different school to better his education, and ostensibly spend time with his brother learning the ropes of the family business. Both brothers knew it was a lie. Itachi never offered to take Sasuke to the meetings, the dinners, or the parties. Sasuke never asked.

_Icha Icha Fashion_, as a corporation, was big enough that he could remain obscure. Part of the company's appeal stemmed from the fact that it had headquarters in virtually every country, and refused to disclose the location of shoots, to protect new designs from competitors. His new life was an anonymous lie, fabricated of half-truths and illusory deceptions, mostly courtesy of Itachi.

School wasn't like that. True, surrounded by thousands of other students, he retained a degree of anonymity, but he couldn't hide from his record, couldn't hope to change his grades, his GPA. He couldn't start completely over without admitting _it_ was real. _It_ had hurt him.

And he wasn't ready for that.

So he remained in limbo, a blank face in a crowd of blank faces, each with a complex story hiding just beneath the surface. Sasuke strove to remain just a face in a chair, excelling only as much as he needed to pass the class, but never so much as to attract attention. He couldn't help but feel that his surface was so fragile it would shatter at the slightest breath of inquiry.

Nervous, and unable to brush his thoughts aside, Sasuke-bait entered the tank and prepared for the Beta's to shred him. Surely there would be someone who knew, who recognized him. Before, there had been millions of fans around the world, and the Uchiha name and money could only hide so much. The revelation was inevitable, and Sasuke found himself bracing for the worst.

His first class, Organic Chemistry, met in the largest lecture hall of the Natural Sciences building. Sasuke felt the eyes of the others upon him as he tried to find his class; he barely stopped himself from jumping when a teacher addressed him.

"Can I help you find something?" The man wasn't intimidating in the slightest, partially balding, bespectacled, and clad in a khaki plaid shirt he resembled a turtle. Sasuke glared.

"Here, let me see your schedule." The man took it without waiting for Sasuke's consent.

"You just go down this hall, and the room will be on your left, just as you enter a lobby. Good luck." The man returned the schedule and watched Sasuke until the model rounded a corner and disappeared.

"D 203, D 205…D220? What the hell is wrong with this building?" Sasuke muttered, staring at the door, scowling as though it had deliberately moved to the wrong place just to deceive him. "Where the hell is D 206?" Sasuke, with no alternatives, continued down the hall, dismayed to find the room numbers climbing incessantly. When his path met another hall in a T, he looked left, then right. With a defeated sigh he guessed left, and continued walking. Two doors down he saw a glorious sign, and it almost seemed wreathed in an ethereal golden glow. A more poetic person might say that the very angels of heaven sang as the light of heaven shone upon the glorious sight. Sasuke was not poetic.

He was simply overwhelmingly relieved to have found his class. On time, even.

_Finally_, he thought descending the stairs and slouching in one of the seats along the right wall, second row from the front, close enough to see and hear easily, not close enough to be deemed a geek, all part of his master academic plan.

He didn't notice a certain blond watching him from across the room, blue eyes focused completely on him. Had he bothered to pay attention to his classmates, he might have recognized several faces, and been unnerved by the unwavering blue stare, but Sasuke had eyes only for the chalkboard.

Two hours of lecture later, and more Louis Structures than anyone cared to count, Sasuke was packing his notebook and pens into his messenger bag when someone tapped his shoulder.

"Uchiha Sasuke?"

Sasuke looked up and saw a thin man with dark hair slouching over him.

"I'm Shikamaru. We work together." He extended a hand lazily, as if the effort was almost too much for him. Sasuke straightened and shook it.

"Nice to meet you, but I'm late for class." Sasuke started to turn away, the lie falling easily from his lips, something the old Sasuke had never been able to do with a straight face.

"No, you aren't. Your next class isn't 'til this afternoon."

"How did you-" Sasuke couldn't keep the sudden note of panic from his voice, but he kept his features impassive and hoped Shikamaru didn't notice. "Are you stalking me?" he continued, calmer.

"Stalking? No. You dropped your schedule. I had to read it to find out to whom it belonged." Shikamaru returned the paper. "Paranoid?"

"You don't get to be this famous without a few crazy fans. It's better to confront them early." Sasuke endeavored to cover his anxiety with the arrogance so many assumed he possessed, but the attempt fell flat, and they both knew it. Sasuke gestured with the paper in thanks and left without another word. When he reached the top of the steps his heart raced in his chest and he could feel a cold sweat on his back.

A blue-eyed stare bored hole between his shoulder blades.

XxXxXxXxX

Friday afternoon found Naruto spinning aimlessly on a stool in the _Icha Icha Fashion Design Review and Allocation Office_, or as he liked to call it, _Mission Base._ Some of the more punctual models occupied other stools around the empty conference table, and they stared listlessly out the windows. Hinata alternated between staring at her hands and staring at Naruto. He flashed her a smile and she blushed. Despite a lengthy conversation several years earlier regarding his interests, and lack thereof, romantically, she still harbored feelings for him that she endeavored to convert to a more platonic love.

Jiraya's love of aesthetics extended beyond his 'research' and models to his corporate headquarters. Though seemingly just another high-rise, the conference room was walled entirely in floor to ceiling windows, with the elevator tucked neatly into one corner. A long table stretched across one side of the floor, walled in by glass, and a second conference room supported a more casual feel, with several smaller tables pushed together. Tall swivel stools ringed it, and everything was finished in strong hard wood tones to convey a sense of strength.

Jiraya only played the fool when it proved convenient.

As 3 o'clock drew near, more models and photographers gravitated to the room. They assumed the same seats as they had every other week, struck up the same inane chatter or remained utterly silent, as always. Sasuke found a seat as far from Naruto as the table allowed, folded his hands, braced his elbows on the tabletop and proceeded to glare over his laced fingers. Naruto surmised that the Uchiha might be harboring some ill-will from their last photo shoot.

At precisely three, Jiraya and Tsunade entered, a paper laden Shizune at their heels. Jiraya made idle conversation with Genma, one of the editing assistants, on his way to the head of the table. Tsunade scowled at the obvious stalling, but as usual, Jiraya ignored it and Shizune fought the urge to slap Tsunade for the hypocrisy. At 3:15, Kakashi appeared in his seat. No one saw him enter or sit down.

Jiraya took that as his cue to start the meeting.

"Hey there, everyone."

"Get to the point, Jiraya. We don't have all day." Tsunade snapped.

"Quiet, you old hag. This is my business." Jiraya smiled his way through the familiar argument before turning back to his employees.

"As you know, this weekend was supposed to be our big Beach Shoot. Obviously that will have to be delayed until all of you are photo-ready." He shot a meaningful glance at Naruto's black eye. Sasuke silently thanked the universe that his bruised ribs were invisible under his black shirt, saving him from Jiraya's scrutiny. "As a result, I've pushed up the 'Summer Sophistication' shoot to this weekend. Kurenai assures me that her team will be able to make you all look like billionaire heirs. So." Shizune passed Jiraya a list.

"Ebisu, you'll have Hinata, Kiba, and Shino in 3. Kakashi, you'll have Sakura, Ino, Naruto, and Mr. Uchiha in 2. The rest of you will be with Anko in 1. Questions? No? Good. Try not to break anything this week, okay Naruto?"

Naruto grinned and scratched the back of his head noncommittally.

XxXxXxXxX

"Ow! Stop touching that! Seriously, knock it off!"

"Stop squirming, Naruto. I'm almost…there. Look." She spun him around so he could see his reflection. A skillful application of makeup completely obscured the bruising.

"Wow…" Naruto poked the skin and winced. "Too bad it doesn't get rid of the tenderness. Hey, Kurenai, if you can do this—"

"I swear to the gods in heaven Naruto, if you ask me what I look like without makeup I will beat your sorry ass." Kurenai glared at him in the mirror

"I—I wasn't going to—" Naruto held his hands up in surrender.

"You're going to be late if you don't get going. You're not even dressed yet."

"Huh? Oh, right, yeah. Thank's Kurenai-chan!" Naruto was out of her chair and halfway down the hall before he finished the sentence.

As Naruto thundered past his changing room, Sasuke glared at the white polo. It would have to be white. As if he didn't look pale enough. He flipped his newly flat-ironed hair out of his face with a defeated sigh, pulled the shirt on, flipped the collar down, and left the room without studying his reflection.

Sasuke trudged to the elevator, hands firmly entrenched in his pockets. The hair stylists flocked behind him, planning to add a few finishing touches, but one solid glare had them cowering behind their chairs.

Pounding footsteps were the only warning Sasuke had before a blue clad Naruto breezed past. Expecting the blond to simply continue to the elevator and race to the basement as he had the last week, Sasuke leaned slightly away, only to stumble forward when Naruto grabbed his elbow and drug him along.

"Don't want you to miss the elevator again," Naruto smiled, eyes twinkling with mischievous intent. Sasuke was too busy trying to remain upright to reply. As they neared the elevator bank, Naruto threw an eraser at the call button, summoning the elevator. Sasuke barely had time to be impressed before Naruto unceremoniously shoved him through the opening doors, scooped up his bouncing eraser, and jammed the 'door close' button.

Only the gentle hum of the elevator cables broke the silence of their descent. Sasuke discretely watched Naruto staring at him for three floors before fixing the blond with a glare. When Naruto squirmed uncomfortably and looked away, Sasuke smirked. _Such a dobe,_ he thought, smiling to himself.

On the other side of the elevator, Naruto studied his feet and fought down a blush. As both a model and a fighter he was used to people staring at him, but something about Sasuke unnerved him. Plus, getting caught staring at a guy in an elevator wasn't exactly the most glamorous thing he'd done to date. _Teme, _Naruto frowned slightly, irritated by Sasuke's reaction. And after he'd gone to the trouble on making sure the bastard didn't miss the elevator again, too. A devious thought oozed into Naruto's mind and his eyes reflected a mischievous glint.

Just before the doors chimed and opened, Naruto seized Sasuke's hand and began dragging him forward.

"Hey—what do you think you're—" Sasuke stammered before nearly colliding with the still opening doors. He let out an unmanly gasp as his nose passed centimeters from the sliding metal. Naruto guided them through the crowded hall with ease, never so much as brushing against another person in the crowded hall.

Naruto pushed the door to the studio open with his free hand without slowing. They stumbled into the room and Naruto immediately focused on the wall clock.

"Yes!" he shouted, jumping up and down without releasing Sasuke's hand. "New record!"

"That clock is broken, Naruto-kun. You're five minutes late." Sakura chided him. "And look, poor Sasuke looks so…" She trailed off, not wanting to insult her crush.

"Poor girl, she's so in love with what she thinks he is that she doesn't really see him." Ino leaned against the wall by Naruto. "She gets a little crazy."

"If I recall you tried to deck me too." Naruto watched Sakura, a daring slit in her knee length pink tunic revealing a nearly scandalous amount of legging-clad flesh, flirting with Sasuke who endeavored to ignore her without being completely rude.

"Sorry about that. I guess I got a little caught up. I mean, you did beat up the guy Sakura and I have been gushing over for the past five years." Ino touched his shoulder gently. Naruto saw the sincerity in her eyes and smiled.

"I probably would have done the same thing, Ino-chan, if you beat up my hero."

"Is your eye okay?" Ino turned his chin so she could see it better.

"Yeah, I'm just a little bruised still, but nothing Kurenai couldn't fix. She's like a goddess of makeup."

"She did a great job. If I didn't know what I was looking for, I wouldn't even be able to tell there was anything different about you. From a distance, no one will ever know." Ino smoothed her orange sundress, tugging the alluringly short hemline back down to a modest length. The garment, like most of the feminine _Icha_ designs, had a tendency to be tantalizingly small.

"Hey, wanna go to Ichiraku's tonight? I could really go for some ramen."

"You could always go for ramen, Naruto. But sure. Sounds like fun." Ino hugged Naruto and smiled. "Since I helped beat you up, it's my treat."

Sasuke felt his stomach knot as the blonds hugged, and he didn't know why. Naruto and Ino were talking too quietly for him to hear anyway, and imagining what they said made him feel sick.

"Sasuke-kun, is everything all right? You seem angry." Sakura was suddenly in front of him, blocking his view. Her green eyes practically oozed concern.

"No, I'm fine. You're just…annoying." Sasuke turned away and Sakura instantly deflated.

"Annoying…?"

Kakashi chose that moment to make another of his dramatic entrances, appearing behind Naruto and Ino in a puff of smoke.

"Good afternoon everybody. Let's get started, shall we?"

XxXxXxXxX

Kakashi perched in his chair, sitting on one leg with the other drawn up to his chest. He turned his computer on, plugged his MP3 player into his speakers and pressed play, and flicked on his custom desk lighting. Though small, the LED lamp provided more than enough light for him to type by, and had the added benefit of remaining relatively cool, thus preventing his office from becoming ridiculously hot.

He shuffled through the thumbnails of the day, sorting the ones he would print on his proof sheet for the monkeys in marketing and the ones he would file away as non-commercial artistic prints. Kakashi smiled at the obvious companionship between Naruto and Ino. For some reason, though they fought frequently, they shared an almost familial bond that proved charming in photographs. Most of their shots together landed in the "For the Monkeys Upstairs" folder, with the only notable exceptions being a pair where both had their eyes closed and a series of six in which Naruto made a comment about Ino's short dress and she flipped him off.

By comparison, the shots of Sakura and Sasuke together almost failed to make the proof sheet at all. Between Sasuke's obviously disdainful body language and Sakura's incessant pouting, only two shots were usable. In one, Sasuke stared intensely at something off camera and Sakura watched him with amorous intentions, and in the other Sasuke had pulled her close to tell her off for being irritating. Captured in the instant before speaking, Sasuke's eyes practically burned with the force of his emotions, and Sakura emoted genuine surprise and anticipation. Under scrutiny, it could pass as a passionate interaction between lovers.

Kakashi idly wondered what riled Sasuke in the first shot, and regretted not using the wide angle lens for that series. He inserted the next memory card and started the process again, with the full group shots.

The first few focusing pictures showed only the empty backdrop, a grassy hill with a white railed dock overlooking a lake such a pristine shade of blue that it could only exist in fantasy. Dropping those into a folder with other such shots, his personal method of keeping track of different set designs so he never shot the same one twice, Kakashi switched to larger thumbnails and settled in for a long viewing session.

With over 2,000 photos to review, Kakashi lacked the patience to scroll through them all. He set the view on slideshow and settled in for a long evening. Occasionally he scribbled down a number to indicate a picture the monkeys might like, but for the most part, he enjoyed a stop-action review of his afternoon. The show finished and froze on the last shot, just as Sasuke and Naruto devolved into another fight.

From his distant vantage, Kakashi hadn't caught all of the exchange, but Sasuke had responded unfavorably to one of Naruto's remarks, and the blond took it personally.

_ "Are you ready for ramen, Ino?" Naruto asked, twirling her slowly as they mock-danced._

_ "You're taking her out for ramen?" Sasuke's tone implied that ramen was only a small step above starving._

_ "What's wrong with ramen?" Naruto broke the pose and rounded on Sasuke._

_ "Nothing, for a dobe." Sasuke smirked._

_ "Let it go Naruto…" Ino warned, putting a hand on his chest to prevent him from jumping Sasuke._

_ "Well, that should do it." Kakashi announced, stuffing his gear into the proper cases. If he wasn't around for the fight, Jiraya couldn't blame him for letting things get out of hand for his personal amusement. For some reason, the Fashion Sage had a problem with his grandson getting pounded on set, despite the excellent shots produced._

_ Unfortunately, the silver photographer wasn't quite fast enough in his exit, and the first blows fell before he was out the door. Duty bound, and Jiraya threatened, to intervene, Kakashi set his precious camera on his stool and stepped onto the set. _

_ Getting between the furious boys proved simpler than anticipated. He slung an arm over each of their shoulders and smiled._

_ "If you start another brawl on my set, I'll kill both of you and hide your dismembered corpses so well no one will find so much as a hair off your head to identify you." While speaking, he propelled them toward the back door, kicked it open, and threw them into the empty hall. "Questions? No? Good." The doors slammed closed. _

_ Sakura and Ino watched, mouths gaping in surprise, as Kakashi calmly collected his equipment again and prepared to leave._

_ "Ladies," he nodded, "Great work today."_

In his office, Kakashi smiled at the memory. If only the boys knew what they were getting into. Pity they would never see their actions the way he did. Any one of the pictures would appall them merely from the sheer depth revealed. Their actions brought up so many memories.

Kakashi glanced at his cell phone, the small silver rectangle perched tantalizingly next to his lamp. Unable to resist, Kakashi flipped the device open and scrolled through his contacts. _'I probably already deleted it…' _Kakashi thought, concentration on the steady flow of names, ranging from his drinking buddy Asuma to Gai, Maito, his rival photographer.

He stopped at the next name, surprised to see it. Long neglected, if not exactly forgotten, it was three simple letters, all capitalized: HIM.

Kakashi pressed "OK" to select it, and then "TALK." Butterflies danced in his stomach, leaving him with the anxiety of a giddy school girl. He almost hung up, but HE had caller ID, and would just call back. There was no turning back. Kakashi pressed the phone to his ear.

"Lord of the Underworld speaking, how may I assist in your eternal damnation?"

"You haven't changed." Kakashi accused.

"Even after our last conversation I fail to see the need. You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I hang up."

XxXxXxXxX

Sasuke slammed the door just in time to see Itachi hang up his phone.

"Who was that?" he snapped.

"Paris. I take it work was bad."

"That stupid blond dobe with the big blue eyes got me thrown off set again. There's something about him that just makes me want to punch his face in."

"Punch his face in huh? That good? Sounds like someone needs anger management."

"Bite me, Itachi."

"Sasuke!" Itachi feigned scandal. "That's called cannibalism. It's illegal in some places."

"Why are you so irritating?" Sasuke snapped, tossing his jacket over a chair and slumping into an arm chair. Itachi perched on an arm of the couch and rested his chin on his knees.

"I'm your brother. It's part of my directive. I could show you the handbook, but then I'd have to kill you. Rules and all."

"You're worse than the blond dobe. At least he understands me."

"So that's the card you want to play? 'No one understands me?' That's pathetic Sasuke."

"Thanks, Itachi. I'm glad you think so." Sasuke snarled and tried to storm out of the room. Itachi, however, had other plans. Faster than Sasuke could react, Itachi grabbed his arm and forced him to meet his eyes.

"Enough is enough, Sasuke. It's time to stop playing the victim. I promised I would help you get over this, and I swear I will, but if this—" he shook Sasuke violently, "is how you plan to live your life, you have some serious maturity issues.

"What happened to the Sasuke I knew? The cocky, confident, arrogant brat? What happened to him Sasuke? And don't feed me that crap that he doesn't exist, because I can see him now, in the way you're looking at me. The glare, the posture, that's all him.

"You want to hit me, to make me hurt, because I'm hurting you. I'm telling you exactly what you feared. You are wallowing in self-pity. You hate yourself for it, and don't know how to fix it, so you keep lashing out at everyone, pushing everyone away.

"Do you know why Naruto irritates you? He's happy. All the time. And you are so jealous—"

Sasuke punched Itachi square in the nose and seized the opportunity to escape to the bedroom. He slammed the door and Itachi heard the lock click into place.

"That you can't even see what's staring you in the face." Itachi finished softly. "And that is precisely why I'm doing this for you."

Itachi pulled a tissue from the box and pressed it to his bleeding nose, trying to stem the flow before it ruined his shirt. After the third wad of bloody paper hit the trash can, Itachi relented and retrieved an ice pack. He tilted his head back and balanced the cold on the bridge of his nose.

"Well, at least you haven't lost your left hook."

Itachi pulled out his phone and started typing.

To: Paris

RE: Them

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

** A/N: I'm a jerk. I know. **

** Yes. Sasuke's being a drama queen. It's gonna get worse before it gets better…I think Batman put it best: "It's always darkest before the dawn" or something like that. So. For those of you wondering, there are two chapters this month for a few reasons. **

**Lots of you reviewed. Like I said, reviews make me happy enough to ignore Spanish, Chem, and Calc to write this…*glances at clock...curses at the progression of time***

**There are now (as of 8:52 pm CDT in the USA) 51 of you on story alert. For some strange reason I feel obligated to give you something in a timely manner, especially because so many of you reviewed. I've never had so many reviews, alerts, or favorites from a single story, much less a single chapter. With the exception of the past two days, I've woken up to at least three FFN e-mails. (which, come to think of it, reminds me that a lot of you read in the middle of the night…perhaps I should provide cyber coffee with my cyber cookies?)**

**And last, but not least or I'll be dead for sure, Happy Birthday Rain-of-the-Soul. It's a day early, which I feel makes up for the tardiness of previous years, (and the inevitable tardiness of the actual present…) I added a few things in here just for you. Yes. That means I altered my plot progression. Thanks for that. *Glare* But, you all (and that includes everyone) deserve it after being so great.**

**With that, I bid you a fond adieu, and leave you with one cautionary note. I'm participating in NANOWRIMO (National Novel Writer's Month) and plan to spend the entire month of November, and 50,000 words, on my original fiction. I plan to get a chapter up in November, but if that doesn't happen there will be an extra one in December. Thanks you all, and please refer to the Author's Note from Chapter 2 for further instructions on how to proceed. **

**(r&r please)**


	4. A Day at the Beach

Beach Balls and Eternal Damnation

Itachi's nose was purple. It was neither swollen, nor visibly damaged in any way, except that it was a brilliant purple bruise, that shone all the more starkly because of his pale complexion. Poking it gently with a fingertip—"probing the area" as medical professionals called it—resulted in sharp bursts of pain, and what had to be a darkening of the bruise.

He was hideous.

Sasuke would pay.

Flipping off the bathroom light, Itachi emerged into the greater part of their apartment, and made his way into the kitchen. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows and painted the entirety of the black granite countertop, setting the stone sparkling. That the entire countertop sparkled, uninterrupted by any Sasuke-sized shadows was not lost on Itachi. He measured and ground his coffee beans with an almost obsessive precision, then set a pot to brewing. A brief glance at the stove clock told him it was well past the hour when Sasuke should have risen. Resigned, and determined to end the upcoming encounter without any further facial damage, Itachi crossed to Sauske's bedroom door.

"You've already missed your first class. If you value your dignity I suggest you do not miss the second." Itachi threatened, keeping his voice annoyingly cheerful.

"Die, Itachi."

"Mmm, while that sounds intriguing, I shall have to postpone that for a while. Now, are you going to get yourself ready, or shall I do it for you?" Itachi replied.

"Die."

"Very well, then." Itachi slipped a pin into the lock and twisted it expertly, adding a second to trip the second tumbler. With a satisfying snick, the lock clicked open. Itachi twisted the knob and was in the room before Sasuke could react. A brief scuffle ensued, in which Sasuke struck Itachi's nose, again, and Itachi bundled him up in the blankets, effectively creating a straight jacket out of the sheets and comforter. Itachi slung the squirming bundle over his shoulder with some effort, as Sasuke was almost his size, and carried him out of the room, kicking the door out of his way so it wouldn't strike Sasuke on the way through.

Itachi walked briskly around the corner, not giving Sasuke a chance to escape, to the bathroom, turned on the water with his foot and unceremoniously dropped the entire bundle under the icy water. Self-preservation kicked in, and Itachi beat a hasty retreat, slamming the door and holding the knob closed before Sasuke could disentangle himself from the sheets.. Sasuke shrieked at the cold and Itachi heard a storm of swearing just before the doorknob began jiggling under his hand.

"She's your mother too, Sauske-kun." Itachi said in response to one of the muffled curses, making Sasuke curse louder.

After a few intense minutes, Sasuke gave up, knowing from experience that Itachi had either found someone else to hold the door closed or found some way of locking it from the outside, and Itachi heard a change in the sound of the falling water, signaling Sasuke's acquiescence. He released the doorknob, wrapped one of his dozen expensive black leather belts around the knob and looped the buckle over the knob of the front door. At most, Sasuke would be able to open the door an inch, not enough to get out.

The coffee-maker chose that moment to chime the completion of Itachi's drink. Pleased by the timing, Itachi returned to the kitchen. He sat at the counter, his favorite mug, an delicate looking porcelain affair in solid black with red trim and a single red cloud on the inside of the rim, clasped in his right hand, a piece of toast smeared with precisely one Tablespoon of grape jelly in his left. His morning stock reports and the daily review of the company, delivered by fax at precisely 9:00, lay on the counter before him, and he perused them with a sense of indifference. Itachi knew his position as CEO was temporary, even if the rest of the company didn't, and he was simply a stop-gap until Sasuke was old enough to take over.

His exploits in Paris disqualified him from the position in his father's eyes. The man did not take kindly to being told no, and especially not by his son. The comforting weight of his phone against his thigh reminded Itachi that he had no regrets.

Taking another sip of coffee only to find the cup empty, Itachi let out a long sigh. An empty cup meant it was probably time to release Sasuke from the bathroom-prison and feed him before throwing him unceremoniously out the front door.

So it was that Itachi found his belt cut callously in two, and no so much as a drop of water on the floor to indicate the presence of the littler Uchiha. With an unconcerned shrug, Itachi returned to the kitchen, poured another cup of coffee, and settled back on his chair. He wasn't expected at the office until the following day, and with Sasuke expediting his plans by breaking out, Itachi found he had nothing but time.

XxXxXxXxX

Naruto admired his reflection in the mirror. Bright orange swim trunks hung perfectly off his hips, emphasizing the lean muscles of his abdomen and legs. He liked that they made him look powerful, yet sexy. It didn't occur to him to wonder why the designers were so keen on playing up his looks rather than their clothes.

He headed for the elevator, leather sandals slapping the floor loudly all the way, at a leisurely pace. Sasuke had arrived late, and, judging by the closed door of his changing room, still hadn't emerged to head to the set. Naruto slowed his pace even more, devolving from leisurely to downright stalker as he craned at the white door, waiting for Sasuke to emerge. After all, if he looked good in the swimwear, Uchiha had to look straight up godly

It wasn't until he'd stopped completely that Naruto realized he was waiting to ogle a _guy._ Blushing furiously and swearing at himself under his breath, embarrassed slightly by his behavior. Waiting for a friend was one thing, but with the way Uchiha acted, it was unlikely they would ever exchange more than a dozen words without resorting to blows.

Besides, once they got on set, Naruto would have all the time he wanted to ogle.

Naruto realized years earlier that he wasn't straight. Sure, girls were pretty, and he admired a nice figure as much as the next guy, but, well, they just didn't inspire feelings of romance. And the sudden mood snaps gave him whip lash, a fact he'd learned during the three months he'd dated Ino Yamanaka. They never got past holding hands, and called the whole thing off after they got into a fight that ended with him shouting at her and getting slapped for his efforts. By some great miracle they remained friends, a testament to the depth of their relationship, but after the bruise faded, Naruto essentially swore off women, dating, and anything more than a casual fling. It was a decision he never regretted.

As the elevator doors slid closed behind him, he wondered if it was time to reconsider, then berated himself again. Like the great Sasuke Uchiha would be interested.

He was jolted from his inner debate as the doors slid open. Naruto started forward, assuming he was at the basement, then stopped when he saw the Uchiha in question framed by the doors.

"Dobe, didn't you hear me ask you to hold the elevator?" _Nope. Not a word, _Naruto thought. "I don't even want to know what you were so busy thinking about. Actually, I suppose not thinking, in your case." Sasuke sneered, leaning up against the opposite wall and pressing the basement button. "You do at least realize you have to push the button to make the elevator move, right?"

"Shut up, Teme." Naruto felt heat rising to his face. "Bastard. Just because you are some famous super model doesn't mean you're anybody special here. You have to work for it." Sasuke flipped his hair out of his face in a vaguely Charlie's Angelish way and smirked, a classic expression used by the Uchiha's to sway the hearts of entire armies in times past and stolen the hearts of literally millions of women around the world that now served as an emotional slap in the face for Naruto.

Sullenly silent for the remainder of the journey downward, Naruto spent his energy staring at his toes and slowly counting the ways he might off Sasuke during the beach shoot. _A volleyball net might work. Or I could just brain him with the volleyball a few dozen time. A bucket would work too. And it only takes two tablespoons of water to drown…_

He was so involved in his own thoughts that he almost got stuck riding back up to the hair and makeup floor, and entirely missed his chance to admire Sasuke's outfit. Naruto was forced to jog to catch up, but still arrived at the set after Sasuke. Naruto nearly collided with the raven, who for some reason chose to stop in the doorway rather than enter the set.

"Oh hell no." Sasuke said, staring at the crowd and taking a step backward. His back collided with Naruto's bare chest and he flinched like he was burned. "Hell no. I didn't agree to this."

"What's wrong, Sasuke? It's just the beach shoot." Naruto almost completely blocked the door by leaning casually against the frame.

"Why the hell are there so many people?" Sasuke couldn't keep the hint of fear out of his voice even though he spoke in a whisper barely audible over the conversations taking place in front of him.

"They're extras. Jiraya charges them to come experience a real photo shoot and spend time with us. It's a hopeless bit of fan service, but it makes good money and we only do it once a year. It's a good chance to bond with our fans and increase our readership."

"No. Not a chance." Sasuke turned to make a run for it but Naruto's body was in the way. "Move."

"They'll only be here for an hour or two tops, then they go away and we get the real work done. Besides, this isn't optional, Uchiha." Naruto pushed him all the way into the room and closed the door firmly behind them. "Besides, now's your chance to get cozy with as many pretty girls as you want." Naruto walked away, hailing Ino, and by default Sakura, and missed the appalled look on Sasuke's face.

Ino strolled over, her bikini giving a certain roll to her walk that said 'I'm sexy and I know it. Try anything and I'll kill you without breaking a nail.' Bright purple, the bikini was exactly what one might expect to see from the Icha Icha label. Naruto feigned scandal.

"My god Ino, put some clothes on," He stepped between her and the crowd of extras protectively, and hugged her a little closer than necessary. "Some of those perverts might get ideas." She laughed and pulled away.

"Flirt, you're the biggest pervert, other than Jiraya, of course." Ino froze, noticing Sakura's concerned stare and followed her gaze to Sasuke. The raven was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to disappear before the mob of shrieking fan girls reached him.

"Is there something wrong with him? Why didn't he come over here? Now we're gonna have to rescue him." Ino sighed, placing a palm lightly on Naruto's chest.

"No way. You girls can go if you want, but I'm done dealing with the ice king for the day. Stick around him too much longer and I'll get frostbite." Naruto shook his head to emphasize the comment, mussing his already disordered blond hair and drawing a collective sigh from his fan girls.

"But Naruto-chan…what if…if there are _perverts?_" Ino said, eyes wide and seemingly on the brink of tears. The change in Naruto was immediate.

"I'll rescue him from the perverts. You ladies stay here." Naruto dove into the crowd of Sasuke fans and began searching for the cold hearted Uchiha. After much pushing, prodding, and T-shirt autographing, Naruto found him curled beneath some of the enormous rainbow umbrellas, drawn in on himself and rocking slowly, on the verge of tears. Shielded by his umbrella cocoon, the fans couldn't see him, but Naruto wormed his way into the fort and sat opposite Sasuke, forced into a similar fetal position by the lack of space.

"Are you okay, Sasuke?"

"Fine. Perfectly fine," Sasuke snapped, his voice lacking the usual venom.

"Are you really that bothered by crowds?" Naruto asked. His words sounded condescending, even to his own ears, and he hated them instantly.

"I had…a bad experience with…crowds when I was little. I have not been able to abide them since." Sasuke said at length, still rocking slowly. Naruto noticed his eyes were closed, as if imagining himself somewhere else, a subtle indicator that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

"I didn't know." Naruto said and Sasuke snorted miserably. "Seriously. Just because you're famous doesn't mean everyone knows everything about you." Sasuke didn't answer, so Naruto let the conversation drop and extricated himself from the umbrella fort to go find Kakashi. If anyone could get rid of the extras in a hurry, it would be him.

Though Sasuke was less than friendly, Naruto felt guilty about abandoning him, and it drove him to search for Kakashi even faster. Fortunately, he didn't have far to look. The silver photographic genius perched on his usual stool, in the usual place, surrounded by a ten foot ring of empty space. Evidently, he radiated some sort of aura that deterred even the most persistent of fans from approaching.

"Kakashi! Kakashi!" Naruto called, pushing his way into the _Kakashi zone_, earning a few angry looks for his troubles. "Kakashi, Sasuke—"

"I know, Naruto-kun. Yamato and Iruka are working on removing them now. We'll have the annual shoot some other time. If you and the others will wait on set, I'll get Sasuke set." Kakashi hopped off his stool as Naruto nodded and made a beeline through the thinning crowd to the umbrella fort and ducked inside.

"What was all that about?" Ino asked, coming up behind Naruto.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Five hours and more frames than anyone cared to count, Sakura and Ino finally called it a day. Or more accurately, Kakashi called it a day for them. The last hour of shooting had been poses of them together, lounging with drinks, playing beach games, and generally looking adorable in their beach wear while doing vaguely beach related things. After his final idea—the girls running across the "beach" and flying kites—fell through because the accursed things wouldn't fly properly indoors no matter _how_ many industrial fans he trained on them, he decided it was time to get the poses of the boys for the men's section. Neither answered his summons to the set.

With a beleaguered sigh, Kakashi called again before summoning the energy to get out his chair and go looking. Naruto was fairly easy to find, sprawled asleep under the fake sunlight, a copy of the latest _Icha Icha _novel across his chest. Utilizing some of his latent ninja skills, Kakashi swiped the book (not yet available to the public) and replaced it with a martial arts magazine, knowing Naruto wouldn't notice the switch until well after he left the set. Once the "artistic research" was secure, Kakashi nudged Naruto with a toe.

"Wake up, Naruto," he said, and the blond started, flinging the magazine behind him in a reflexive attempt to hide the dirty novel. Kakashi couldn't help but notice how adorable the blond looked, hair mussed, eyes still muzzy from sleep. He wished he had a camera in his hand to capture the moment, promptly trotted over to his tripod, and began shooting. Once Naruto was awake enough to realize he was being exploited, Kakashi proceeded in his search for Sasuke.

Not surprisingly, he found the raven slouched in a corner, nose in a weighty looking textbook.

"I expect all of those under my dominion to come when I call." Kakashi said. Sasuke said nothing, didn't acknowledge Kakashi in any way, so Kakashi tried another tact. "If you aren't on set in five seconds, I'll tell your brother." Still no response. Exasperated, Kakashi leaned down and whispered, "If you aren't on set in five seconds, I'll tell Naruto—"

"Shut up, Kakashi." Sasuke snapped the book closed and stood, fixing Kakashi with the famous Uchiha glare.

"Sorry, kiddo. I am more than immune by now." Leaving Sasuke to riddle that out, Kakashi sauntered back to his director's chair and curled up on the seat, camera in hand.

"Wow me." Kakashi said, focusing through the view finder. Digital camera or not, he preferred the old-style viewfinder to the digital display. For some reason the grainy display screen never quite captured what he wanted. Sasuke and Naruto stood there, awkwardly, all the tension from earlier shoots, and fist fights, hanging in the air between them. Sasuke tugged at the waist of his swim shorts, the dark blue pants riding low on his narrow hips and the fake drawstring doing nothing to help the situation. His action drew Naruto's eyes to his toned stomach and chest, and the blond stared appreciatively at the well cultivated muscle.

Adjusting his camera to fit both boys in the shot, Kakashi suppressed the urge to giggle at the sight of Sasuke subtly attempting to cover his entire body with the small trunks, obviously uncomfortable under the blazing lights half naked, and Naruto ogling him like a man starving. He was tempted to snap a picture, but he knew the monkeys upstairs would never approve it, and it wasn't really private collection material, so he let the moment pass. He was in the middle of setting up his first camera, a wide angle lens so he could take shots for the cover or centerfold, when his cell phone rang, the Caller ID flashing "HIM."

"Lucky, lucky, saved by the bell." He muttered, too soft for either to really hear. Before answering, just in case they did something spectacular while he was away, not that he suspected they might, but, just in case, he set quickly set his wide angle camera on a steady, stop action shutter, so it would take a picture every second or so. He ducked under the rapidly clicking shutter stepped into the hall before answering.

"This had better be important, Satan."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"You look good in that color, Sasuke." Naruto said, flashing the raven a quick smile so the statement wouldn't sound quite so flirtatious. Sasuke recoiled and frowned sharply. Naruto looked away, desperately trying to think of something to say to make the situation less awkward.

"Sasuke—"

"Just don't talk." Sasuke snapped, adding a "Dobe," under his breath for good measure.

"Why are you so afraid of crowds?" Naruto blurted, instantly slapping a hand over his mouth as if he could shove the words back into his mouth by sheer brute force.

"I—I'm not _afraid._ I just don't like them."

"You were crying under a mountain of umbrellas."

"I don't cry, dobe." Sasuke said, rolling his eyes.

"That's not what I saw."

"Get your eyes checked."

"Teme. I'm trying to be _nice _ Not that you would know what that means, being a teme, and all. Sheesh, if you're this bad I'd hate to see what your family is like."

"Don't talk about my family." Sasukes voice dropped dangerously low, and he could feel rage building tension in his neck and shoulders.

"And your brother is just plain creepy. He looks like he's planning world dominion or something." Naruto continued, tapping his chin and gazing up, so lost in his musings he missed Sasuke's building fury.

Sasuke jumped Naruto, tackling him to the ground and pushing them both over a decorative lounge chair. Naruto reflexively tried to hook a leg around Sasuke's abdomen to pull him off, but Sasuke straddled his torso too far up and leaned to far forward for him to get a good grip. Failing that, Naruto wrenched to the side, dumping Sasuke over before he had a chance to establish his balance.

Not one to be outdone, Sasuke punched as he rolled, catching Naruto in the lip and cutting his knuckles on the blond's teeth. Naruto spat blood as he let his momentum carry him on top of Sasuke, straddling the ravens hips and pinning his hands.

"Spill." He commanded, amused by the sight of Sasuke's fury at losing.

"No." Sasuke mimicked Naruto's moves and rolled them over, breaking his hands free to pin Naruto's, but failing to break the leg guard. With Naruto's legs still wrapped around his waist, Sasuke used the blond's own arm to create a half strangle hold.

"I said, I don't want to talk, dobe. I don't speak merely to hear the sound of my own voice." Sasuke snarled. He immediately regretted the severity of his tone, seeing the blood dribbling down the side of Naruto's face and the hurt in the blond's eyes.

"I was just trying to help you." Naruto mumbled.

"Shit," Sasuke swore, noticing the blood on his hand and spattered across the sand on set.

"What? What is it?" Naruto craned his head and saw the chaos. During the scuffle the managed to ruin the perfectly manicured set, smash a chair prop and ruin the fabric by staining the white with blood spatters, and destroy the hard work of hair and makeup.

A soft clicking echoed through the silence.

"He's shooting this? Sasuke, we're dead. Like, deader than dead."

"No. Come on, dobe. If we leave before he gets back, we should be able to avoid his fury." Sasuke extricated himself and stood as he spoke, and extended a hand to help Naruto up.

"But Sasuke, he knows where I _live_."

"Guess you're dead." Sasuke left through the back door, leaving Naruto alone under the bright lights. The blond stood there for a long moment, then chased after Sasuke, heedless of the fact that they were both still in beach wear.

"Wait for me, Sasuke!"

XxXxXxXxX

When he returned to the studio, it was empty. There was blood on the sand, and the scuff lines suggested there had been yet another fight. The knuckle heads would pay this time, Kakashi thought. He had legitimate photographic evidence that they started fighting while was out of the room, and therefore, he could not be responsible.

Kakashi picked up the still clicking camera and stopped it, scrolling back to the beginning of the stop action shots, thrilled at the prospect of clearing his name with Jiraya. He perched on his stool, feet on the top rung, camera cradled in his lap. Brilliant set lighting left glare on the screen, so he turned them off with a loud snap, plunging the room into darkness. The digital display cast a faint glow, bathing his face as he queued up the first shots.

They began benignly enough. Naruto stood a few feet to the side of Sasuke, openly staring at him. Sasuke seemed to make some sort of flippant remark as Kakashi moved through the corner of the shot, and won a smile from the blond. Naruto slowly eased closer, still staring, obviously admiring. He said something, smiling.

For an instant, no longer than one frame, Sasuke smiled back. The expression spanned the entirety of his face, from the perfect arch of his lips to a radiant glow in his eyes, genuine pleasure, genuine happiness written there. If any of his fans saw it, there would be pandemonium.

In the next shot, he seemed to realize his stony mask had cracked and instantly frowned. The reaction was too quick, Naruto probably hadn't even seen the smile. Kakashi felt a hint of sadness for the little blond, and clicked through the pictures faster, skimming them rather than studying.

As the fight progressed, Kakashi felt his face flushing. From the angle of the camera, it certainly did not look like an innocent fight, or a fight at all for that matter, and if one ignored the fact that they were clothed…He shook his head, embarrassed at his own line of thought. The blush turned into a mischievous grin as he thought about what the monkeys upstairs would say if they saw any one of these pictures. Still thinking malicious thoughts about explosive nosebleeds and fainting, Kakashi gathered his equipment and headed off to his office. He had an e-mail to send.

XxXxXxXxX

Naruto cursed at his failure. He'd managed to follow Sasuke fairly well after they collected their clothes, though he never seemed to be able to catch up after the sneaky teme changed into street clothes at the speed of light, but then the troublesome Uchiha disappeared into the library. Unfamiliar with the establishment as he preferred his books in full HD color with surround sound and achingly beautiful actors, Naruto lacked even the slightest inkling of where he ought to begin his search. That he really didn't know Sasuke's likes and dislikes didn't improve the situation.

Naruto flopped into a chair in front of the nearest computer. He could only see one door, so if he kept his head down, Sasuke would have to come by at some point. Turning the monitor on, he resolved to pass the time with a few computer games.

"What do you mean, blocked? What happened to freedom of information?" Naruto grumbled, closing the fourth pop-up web blocker. Every site he visited gave him the same message, and while he irately closed yet another window, a small orange sticker along the bottom edge of the screen caught his eye.

_In an attempt to preserve the environment of _

_quiet academia, this terminal does not support any recreational websites._

_(Social networking, gaming, video streaming etc.)_

_Thank you for your commitment to knowledge._

"Commitment to knowledge? Who the hell writes these things?" Naruto growled as he landed back on the search page. A news feed scrolled across the top of the screen, and though Naruto usually ignored them, one word caught his attention: Sasuke. Certain it couldn't be the same Sasuke, but curious nonetheless, Naruto clicked the link before it disappeared out the right side of the screen.

"Prodigy Uchiha Makes First Commercial Debut Since Tragedy" the headline announced across the top of the page. Naruto scrolled down, still not quite believing what he was seeing.

_This month's issue of the popular Icha Icha magazine features a new face—well, new to the Icha cast, at least. The face of Uchiha Sasuke has been the source of heartbreak for many teens around the world, but, until this month, the Uchiha's have made every effort to keep him out of the public eye. Not surprisingly, considering the events of just a few years ago._

_ Uchiha's startling emergence in the modeling field has sparked a great deal of speculation as to his motives. Why now? is the question on many lips, and with Uchiha Fugaku mum on the subject, our experts have decided to chime in._

_ The most popular theories seem to involve the abrupt reappearance of Uchiha Itachi in the business world. As Uchiha Inc's stock prices spiraled into the basement, the Uchiha heir stepped in and has attempted to stop the desperate hemorrhaging of funds. One can only suppose that Sasuke is trying to bring his family back into the public mind with the shocking photos released in this issue. But after such a traumatic departure from the limelight, we can't help but wonder if Sasuke is ready for this, and if his fans are ready to have him back._

_ Only time will tell._

Naruto stared at the screen, at a loss. _Traumatic departure? _He tapped the backspace key and began a new search.

_"Uchiha Sasuke"_: 400,320,679 results in .19 seconds. Advanced Search?

Naruto clicked the first link, and started reading.

_The world was shocked to hear Uchiha Fugaku confirm the disappearance of his youngest son this morning, putting an end to rumors that Sasuke was taking on vacation. Missing for nearly a month, investigators have no leads, no reliable tips, no evidence beyond a broken window to Sasuke's room and a grainy photo still from a security camera…_

XxXxXxXx

A/N:

Back! At last. Phew, that was a long chapter, and tricky to write since it never wanted to end. But you get two chapters this month, so don't hate me for the cliffhanger.

A few notes of bookkeeping:

I don't own Naruto. If I did, I wouldn't be a poor college student.

This is a SasuNaru. When we get that far, Sasuke tops. 'nough said.

I know Sasuke's being angsty. It is deliberate, and will end soonish. Everyone has their periods of emo-ish-ness and this is Sasuke's. Naruto will snap him out of it. I promise.

Whatever you're thinking about Itachi is probably right. And if you have doubts as to what might happen with him, refer to my profile. Hints abound.

In case any of you care, I succeeded at nano.

And now, thank you again to everyone who reviewed, favorited, alerted, reviewed, added to a community, and did I mention reviewed? this fic, and the others. You make me feel loved. Thank you.

Now, whilst you eagerly await the next chapter's revelations about our angsty duo, click the button. You know you want to.

(r&r)


	5. The Big Bang

The Big Bang

**AN: It is late. I am terrible. I am aware. Thanks to everyone for being patient. This was a really tough chapter to write, for several reasons that I can't discuss without spoilers. So. Better late than never, and longer than usual to boot. Cookies to all who reviewed, alerted, favorited, etc. You are all fabulous. Keep up the good work. **

Sasuke was half asleep when the loudspeaker announced, warned really, of the library's evening closure. Shaking his head slightly to clear the drowsiness from his thoughts, Sasuke gathered the books he'd been reading and began the long descent to the main floor. Sure, there was an elevator, but there was nothing quite like six flights of stairs to get the blood flowing. The steady thud of his feet on the rubber covered iron steps helped free him from the last vestiges of drowsiness, or so he told himself as he stifled a yawn.

He barely looked up from the dull blue tiles as he trudged to the checkout, not paying much attention to where he was going until he nearly collided with someone still using the last computer terminal.

"Sorry," Sasuke started to say, finally looking up to see where he was going. His eyes met a pair of large blue ones as a startled Naruto stared back at him. "What the hell are you doing here, dobe?"

"Teme, this is a public library, and I'm, well, you know, I'm…public!" Naruto struggled with the comeback and only glared as Sasuke failed to suppress an amused snort. "Teme." He snapped.

"Relax, dobe. I'm leaving anyway. No need to have an aneurism."

"An anuer—whatsit? Teme, I'll have one if I want to!" Naruto half shouted, earning them an angry _shhhhh_ from the librarian at the desk, which they both ignored.

"What are you even doing here, Naruto?" Sasuke said, lowering his voice more for effect than respect for the glaring old lady behind the desk.

"Nothing!" Naruto replied too quickly, practically leaping to close the window before Sasuke could see. The Uchiha caught his wrist before he could reach the mouse, however, and after a brief struggle, Sasuke pinned Naruto's arms in a well-executed bear hug. The smaller blonds back pressed against his chest, the dobe's lean muscles flush against Sasuke's stomach. He could feel the steady pounding of Naruto's heart, the steadfast organ barely flustered by struggle, the rhythm strangely familiar. Something stirred in the pit of Sasuke's stomach, a small, unfamiliar feeling that he promptly ignored. Flipping some hair out of his face, Sasuke glanced at the screen over his shoulder.

_Uchiha Sasuke Still Recovering…_

Sasuke stopped reading. He knew all too well what the article said. Head snapping back to Naruto, Sasuke felt the liquid ice of his fury rushing through his veins. Like his brother, though to a lesser extent, Sasuke's temper wasn't the flash fire for which his clan was named, but rather a chilling rage all the more dangerous for its calm facade.

"If you ever, _ever_ so much as think about searching me, or checking up on me, or _anything_, ever again, there will not be a body left for the police to find, Uzumaki." The way Sasuke snarled his name made Naruto flinch. The blonde didn't doubt for an instant that Sasuke would follow through on his threat.

Releasing the Naruto, Sasuke pressed a few keys and clicked thrice in what seemed a bit of computer wizardry to Naruto and cleared the entire browsing history from the computer. The terminal access prevented him from completely deleting it, but it would be enough to prevent all but the most computer savvy types from following Naruto's search.

"Sasuke—"

"Don't even—Just don't, Naruto." Sasuke snarled. His books forgotten, he stormed out of the library, leaving his confused co-worker standing by the computer terminal, dazed.

"I'm sorry…" Naruto whispered to Sasuke's distant back.

XxXxXxXxX

The sight of Itachi sipping coffee at the kitchen counter nearly incited Sasuke to fratricide. How dare Itachi be so calm when Sasuke simply wanted to murder the nearest living thing? Naturally, Itachi was seemingly oblivious to the waves of anger radiating from his younger brother.

"Good evening, Sasuke." Itachi stared over the rim of the cup. "Nice of you to finally show up."

"I don't have a curfew." Sasuke snapped, feeling guilty anyway. Somewhere along the line Itachi managed to master their father's stare. Sneaky bastard.

"Curfew, no. However I seem to recall extracting a certain promise from you regarding your whereabouts and my knowledge of them at all times. With no exceptions." Itachi mused.

"Yeah, and?" Sasuke said, slumping against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, the picture of teenage defiance. Itachi fought down the urge to laugh.

"You left work three hours ago, early I might add, and yet, you are only arriving home now. Was there some sort of accident?" Itachi's voice remained calculatedly light, interested, but with an undertone of apathy.

"No." Sasuke grumbled.

"Then for some reason you are not in possession of your phone, and had no means of contacting me, as all public and pay phones are out of order, and every single person you encountered either lacked a phone or service," Itachi set the mug down firmly, now fully interested in the conversation.

"Not exactly."

"Hmm. Well then, it would seem that you are in breach of our agreement, and have no standing to argue. Per the terms of such, you are restricted to work and school. No parties, no movies. Straight there, straight back. You will call or text each time you arrive and leave. I will know if you lie." Itachi said, standing. The firmness of his tone was frightening in itself, and the look on his face could kill.

"How long?" Sasuke sighed. It would be more than useless to try and argue that grounding was for children, and Itachi had no right. His brother was far to prepared to refute such arguments and tear them to pieces too miniscule to be called shreds.

"Until you have proven yourself responsible again." Itachi said, clinching his transformation into their father. But Itachi ruined the effect almost immediately by hugging Sasuke tightly. He sighed and rested his chin on his little brother's head, ignoring the tension in Sasuke's back. "At this rate I'm going to need some hard liquor in my morning coffee," Itachi grumbled, more to himself than Sasuke. "Now, go study, or sleep, or whatever it is you do while grounded." The eldest Uchiha tried to be stern, and failed by sighing again.

"Whatever." Sasuke shrugged out of Itachi's embrace and slammed the door to his room behind him.

In the kitchen, Itachi pulled out his phone. Three missed calls. He scrolled through his contacts and sent a simple text.

_He's here, safe. Thanks for the help._

Itachi took another long draught of coffee. It was cold, had been cold for the better part of the past two hours. He poured another cup and drank deeply. Steeled by sludgy, congealed caffeine, Itachi picked up the phone again and dialed with the callback button even though he knew the number by heart.

"Hi, mom."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sasuke sprawled on his bed, too tired to study, too angry to sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the genuine hurt in Naruto's eyes, the confusion. The sincere remorse. The blond dobe really hadn't meant any harm, and Sasuke had practically screamed at him. Sensitive as he seemed, Naruto would probably never get over it.

And Sasuke couldn't shake the memory of Naruto in his arms. How perfectly the annoying blond fit against his chest, how right it felt to hold him, which naturally evoked memories of their fight, and how natural it seemed to pin Naruto down, to see those eyes filled with something more than anger. How he felt somehow….safe.

Shaking his head, Sasuke banished the thought. No, other than Itachi, no one made him safe. They couldn't protect him—not when he'd needed it most. No. Not even the blond dobe.

No matter how bright a blue his eyes…

XxXxXxXxX

Naruto spun on the chair in Jiraya's office, waiting for the old man to get off the phone. He was tempted to break into the liquor cabinet, but even with his back turned, Jiraya would notice. He was that good. So Naruto fidgeted restlessly, trying not to think about what his grandfather wanted.

That was the thing with Jiraya—one minute he was the head of _Icha Icha,_ loud, powerful, confident, and more than a little perverted. Blink, and suddenly he was just Grandpa, still strong, but in a comforting way. The kind of guy who gave lectures and hugs, moral support. The transition time between the two faces of Jiraya was nonexistent, and when he was younger Naruto fancied he could get whiplash trying to keep track. It was better to just sit.

"That was quite the stunt you pulled on Kakashi. Leaving a shoot early?" Naruto jumped. He hadn't heard Jiraya hang up the phone. "And Kakashi won't show me the film, which leads me to believe something happened. Don't tell me you and Uchiha got into another brawl."

Naruto squirmed and looked away, giving Jiraya all the answer he needed. The old man sighed and took a drink.

"Listen, kiddo. I don't know what's going on with you two, but you can't keep beating the snot out of each other. The Uchihas have invested a lot of money into this company and are expecting a huge return. I can't have you beating their boy to a pulp every time he looks at you funny.

"I have one more shoot scheduled for the two of you. It will go smoothly. There will be no fights, no arguments, no snide comments, and no sneaking out early. After that, I'll make sure you aren't scheduled together again. Think you can manage, Naruto?" Jiraya swirled the last bit of sake in the bottom of his cup.

"Yeah. I won't start anything." Naruto said softly, still not meeting Jiraya's eyes.

"Something happen I should know about?" Jiraya asked, picking up on Naruto's mood.

"I Googled Sasuke."

"So you know about that, huh?" Jiraya refilled his cup.

"Sasuke caught me."

"Is that what the fight was about?"

"No, the fight was before that. But he was really angry, and wouldn't even let me apologize." Naruto sighed miserably. "And all I saw was that he went missing and came back again….I couldn't even find out why. "

"Hmm. I can understand why he would react that way. It's a lot of bad memories for him."

"What happened?" Naruto asked.

"I am contractually obligated not to speak about it without express permission from young Mr. Uchiha. Uchiha Itachi was quite adamant on that point. They came here because for the most part the story did not run. People here have never heard of what befell Sasuke-kun, at least not in any sort of detil. Here he is free from reporters, and at worst need only contend with his fans."

"Why didn't the story run here? And what about the internet? Why doesn't anyone know about this?"

"The Uchiha's have money, and Itachi is quite clever when it comes to lining the proper pockets and getting things accomplished. He can be very persuasive. And the Uchiha legal department threatened to sue any newspaper publishing a story about Sasuke without permission. Something about exploitation of a minor and reasonable expectations of privacy. A load of legal bullshit, if you ask me, but it was enough to keep the sharks at bay."

"And this didn't hurt his fan base? Disappearing mysteriously and reappearing? It doesn't make sense." Naruto slouched in his chair and sulked, still hurt over Sasuke's treatment.

"No. His fan base actually grew as a result. Who would not love a sultry beauty with a tragic past? And he has the advantage of relative anonymity here, thanks mostly to Icha Icha, and you, Naruto. But that does not change what happened, and I fear Itachi miscalculated in bringing his brother here…

"Regardless, Naruto, one more shoot. After that I'll deal with Itachi and get Sasuke teamed up with someone else. I've already asked Itachi to pick you up afterwards, since your apartment is close to theirs, and the shoot is quite a ways away. Kakashi will take you both over with his camera gear. Noon, tomorrow. Don't be late." Jiraya rose, signifying the end of the conversation. Naruto rose too, and they experienced that awkward moment when neither wanted to be the first to leave, but they had no real way of finalizing the conclusion. Naruto was too old for casual hugs but a handshake would be far too formal.

They settled on a clumsily little wave.

XxXxXxXxXxX

:"Yes, I know, but I have responsibilities too. I can't just walk out of a meeting to-:

"Yes. I know.

"Yes. I am well aware what it means.

"And for the hundredth time I shall say no. You have my apologies. I can't.

"Really? I would think you would be…Right. Well, Thank you. I can't think of anyone better suited to this, anyone I trust more.

"No, not even he would be a good choice. Sasuke doesn't know." Itachi hissed.

"I don't know, what, Itachi?" Sasuke leaned against the door, one eyebrow quirked as he listened to Itachi's side of the call.

"I'll speak with you later, but thank you again. Yes, good bye." Itachi slid the phone shut with a definitive snap and met Sasuke's eyes steadily. "You have a shoot tomorrow. On location. Hata—Kakashi will take you there. He's meeting you at noon, at Icha Icha, so don't be late." Itachi lifted his coffee cup, pretending to drink even though the cup was almost empty. One of their father's tricks, it created a silence most felt obliged to fill.

"You're lying." Sasuke said, falling into the trap. "That isn't what you were talking about."

"Then perhaps you need to improve your eavesdropping skills, that you might better hear what others are whispering about, and thus ascertain you are correct in your suspicions." Itachi sighed and set his cup down. "Regardless, you have a shoot. You will attend and not make further nuisance of yourself." Itachi brushed past Sasuke into the small foyer, readying himself to leave.

"Where are you going at this hour?" Sasuke fell into the obvious trap.

"Am I beholden to you? Need I justify my every action?" Itachi tried to look hurt. "Believe it or not, I have business to attend. I have yet to make multi-million dollar corporations run themselves. You'll be asleep by the time I get home, so I shall see you tomorrow evening." Tightening his scarf, more as a nod to fashion than protection against the cold, Itachi let himself out without saying good-bye.

"_But I have a question, Itachi. How do I explain all this to Naruto? Why do I want to?"_ Sasuke thought and rubbed the scars on his wrist thoughtfully, staring at the closed door. For a moment, he fancied the wood a symbol, a metaphor for some sort of barrier existing between the two of them, but dismissed the thought as hopelessly romantic. Pain flared up from the scars, a phantom of the original, but enough to make him wince and pause. He closed his eyes and saw Naruto's smiling face.

"Damn, dobe."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Kakashi's car smelt like lemons. Not the pungent, stifling lemon of cleaner, but of actual lemons, like he had doused the car in lemon juice. Judging by the strength of the scent, the dousing had been recent. Naruto didn't seem to notice, but from his perch in the passenger seat, Sasuke was overwhelmed by it. Itachi's car always smelled like peppermint—odd, considering he consumed so much coffee en route to work—so Sasuke was particularly sensitive to the deviation. The lemon scent was stranger still given the little evergreen air freshener, still brilliant green and unblemished by the sun, that hung from the rearview mirror.

From behind the wheel Kakashi studied his passengers. Neither spoke, and Naruto looked bored, Sasuke uncomfortable. When they thought he wasn't looking, they snuck glances at each other, thinking they were subtle. The constant flinching and quick return to staring out the car windows

Music whispered from the radio, classic rock being the only thing they could agree upon, but Kakashi kept the volume low, to encourage conversation. He might have had better luck taking an ice pick to the silence.

He parked. Got out. Stared expectantly at the boys in his car. Knocked on the window to get their attention.

"We do have work to do today. If it wouldn't inconvenience you." Kakashi's smile suggested it was anything but optional. With a beleaguered sigh, Sasuke got out and leaned against the car.

"Scratch my paint and even your brother won't be able to save you." Kakashi said without taking his head out of the trunk. Naruto tried to help carry some of the equipment, but a glare from Kakashi stopped him.

Instead, Naruto sat on the curb, waiting. Kakashi unloaded boxes of carefully packed lenses and cameras, memory cards, and a laptop with enough memory and processing power to store several million pictures without slowing. Then came the tripods for the cameras, the shades and reflectors for the lights, and the brilliant bulbs themselves.

"Did you bring the whole studio, Kakashi?" Naruo asked, eyes widening as Kakashi continued to unload supplies that couldn't possibly have fit in his trunk.

"No. I couldn't possibly fit an entire room in here. I had to leave the walls and ceiling behind." Kakashi grinned and scratched the back of his head.

"Can we just get on with it?" Sasuke frowned. He perched on a stone bench on the sidewalk, unable to get comfortable on the cold cement. A white silk shirt, unsuited to the chill spring, draped artfully over him, the wide neck allowing a hint of his shoulder to tantalize the world, namely Naruto. The blond dobe caught himself thinking about untying the laces at that oh so pale neck and…He blushed slightly at the thought.

Damn Sasuke looked good. For a teme.

Kakashi spent a great deal of time and effort setting up his cameras and lights, turning things on and off, making adjustments too subtle for human eyes to detect, and causing his generator to hum in protest.

From the array, the boys gathered that the sidewalk and the surrounding street, buildings and walled pubic park were supposed to make an urban runway, upon which they were supposed to model the latest in high fashion.

It was in the first five minutes of Sasuke's solo pictures that Naruto realized why he was an international star.

Sasuke was hot.

Not in the "too gorgeous to be human" way, but in more of a self confident, intelligent way. Well, he _was_ inhumanly gorgeous, but that was beside the point. Sasuke knew just how to stand, or slouch, or sit, or sprawl, how to angle his head, and how to look at the camera without looking like he was posed, how to…work it. Naruto was floored. Sasuke tugged the laces of his shirt open, letting the neck fall open even more, and baring just enough of his upper chest to tease, to force the mind to imagine more.

It was sexy as hell, and Nauto couldn't help but look. Stare.

Okay, ogle.

Too soon Naruto had to join the raven god, and he felt inadequate. Every pose seemed forced, fake, and rigid. Kakashi gave him seventeen frames before commenting.

"Naruto, relax. Uchiha Itachi assures me Sasuke doesn't bite. In public. Don't look so tense."

Sasuke's face flushed a brilliant shade of red, utterly mortified that Kakashi said that, out loud, in the middle of a street. He then spent a moment fantasizing about all the possible meanings of the statement before protesting.

"But—I don't…pervert." He finished lamely, half mumbling under his breath. "Wait, when were you talking with Itachi?"

"I talk to everyone. Keep that in mind." Kakashi said. Meanwhile, Naruto practically rolled on the sidewalk, laughing at Kakashi's comment.

"He…he doesn't…in public…hahahaha….No, it's okay, I'm okay…in public, HA!" Naruto pulled himself up and straightened his shirt. "Okay, I'm good. Let's go."

"Dobe. Don't laugh at me." Sasuke grumbled. Annoyance with Naruto warred with the observation that the blond looked utterly kissable with his face ruddy from laughing, hair mussed just so.

"I wasn't laughing at _you_ teme. ' was laughing at Kakashi. Pervert."

"All right, boys, come on. Focus."

Sasuke resumed his art full slouch against the wall, shifting his feet slightly to enhance the casualness of his stance. Naruto hesitated, then leaned on Sasuke's shoulder, his arms crossed slightly, one foot popped of the ground.

Kakashi arched an eyebrow but pushed the shutter button as fast as his settings allowed. Nothing would make him miss this shot.

Sasuke tolerated the dobe's clinginess for a few moments before shrugging him off and putting a respectable difference between them. The heat from Naruto's arms lingered for a moment longer than it ought.

It seemed like an eon before the girls arrived for their part of the shoot, and Naruto and Sasuke escaped the blinding lights and ceaseless chatter of the camera and slumped on an unused bench in the park. Light gleamed over the wall behind them, the lightning like flickering of the camera flash an almost blinding strobe.

Hot and tired, they sprawled on the cold cement bench in amicable silence, too worn out to argue.

"Hey, Sasuke?"

"Hn?"

"I'm sorry, for the other day. I didn't mean—"

"Dobe. Just forget it, okay? It's not a big deal, I just don't like talking about it."

"Why can't you just let me say sorry? I don't want to forget about it, because I _know_ you won't teme, and it'll bother you, and I don't want it to bother you." Naruto half shouted, gesturing in exasperation. "I don't want anything to bother you." He added softly.

"Naruto…"

"Look, I know with all the girls crawling over you, there's no way in hell you feel the same, but I like you, okay? And even if you don't, I'm still not gonna let anyone screw with you, not like what happened, even if no one will actually tell me what that was, but okay? I mean, unless you want them to, you know, screw, but, well, I mean…" Naruto ran out of breath as his words tumbled forth in a rush

"Dobe?" Sasuke interrupted gently.

"What?" Naruto snapped.

"I… I am not…By which I mean to say…" The ever eloquent Sasuke fumbled for words, a faint blush stealing over his face and darkening with each passing moment.

"Oh, how adorable, you actually aren't trying to kill each other." Kakashi leaned against the wall and smirked at them. "Jiraya's waiting for you two out front."

"But I thought Itachi was supposed to—" Sasuke started to protest, stopping at the look on Kakashi's face. It might have been his imagination, but Sasuke thought he saw an emotion flicker across the photographer's face, fleeting and indecipherable. Could he _know_ Itachi?

Before Sasuke had a chance to ponder, Naruto was dragging him from the bench and out of the park.

"I know you've met Jiraya, but he's way more fun when he's not at _Icha_, 'cause he's kinda almost bi-polar about it, like one minute he's all doom and gloom and business, and the next he's all 'let's go for ramen, Naru-chan' and its kinda weird at first, but you get used to it, so come on!" Naruto spewed information without pausing for a breath. Or significant punctuation.

"Let go, Naruto, I can walk by myself." Sasuke attempted and failed the Uchiha glare. Honestly, he liked holding Naruto's hand, and would prefer if the blond didn't let go, but his reputation demanded he at least pretend not to like it.

"Mmmmm….Nope. Not gonna." Naruto flashed a 10,000 watt smile.

"What? Why?"

"'Cause I don't wanna." If possible the wattage increased. The tiny part of Sasuke's mind not lost in the smile, and it was a very small part shrouded in oversize polarized sunglasses and a large black sun hat, noted that the happier Naruto got, the less sophisticated his vocabulary became, and filed that information away. Just in case. The little part then removed the sunglasses and was also consumed by the smile, leaving Sasuke only slightly more than a quivering mass of goo.

Jiraya waited on the driver's side of an enormous red and blue monstrosity of a truck. It was old, scratches and dings pitting the paint and ruining what had to have been a fabulous effect when the truck was new, and for all its size, it still managed to look like a death trap of steel on wheels. An adorable anime-style frog adorned the vanity license plate, next to the letters "CHFTOAD."

"Afternoon Sasuke. Hey, Naruto." Jiraya came around the truck to hug his grandson and ruffle the perfectly spiked blond hair. "I see you managed not to kill each other today."

"The way you say that makes it sound like we managed it before." Naruto laughed, obviously adoring the old business mogul. Sasuke crossed his arms across his chest, uncrossed them, then fidgeted with his hands behind his back, shifting his weight slowly from foot to foot. Watching the exchange made him acutely aware that there was no one in his life that he looked at like that. Not even Itachi.

"Your brother got tied up at the office, Sasuke," Jiraya said, as if reading Sasuke's thoughts. "He asked me to take you home. I know it isn't ideal, since you and Naruto have had some differences, but it's better that waiting here all night." A grin slowly spread across Jiraya's face, and Sasuke suddenly knew where Naruto had learned the 10,000 watt killer. "Besides, you wouldn't want him to _worry about you_." The "again" hung unspoken, but understood between them. Damn Itachi had ratted him out. Bastard.

With a sigh entirely more dramatic than he actually felt, Sasuke claimed the front passenger seat, abandoning Naruto to the loneliness of the back.

The inside of the truck was more eccentric—if possible—than the outside. The entire dash overflowed with little frog figurines, doing all manner of things. Some fished an invisible pond from a makeshift boat, while others fought duels with tiny swords, while still more sat in deliberate meditative poses. A small plush frog hung from the rear view mirror, and every button, from the radio to the AC and beyond, had some sort of frog detailing.

Sasuke killed a good ten minutes of the drive studying the little figures. When he first heard the little snort from the back seat, he ignored it, as did Jiraya.

The second time Sasuke's eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror, but he only saw Naruto staring back at him. The third time, the snort turned into a giggle, and Sasuke turned fast enough to catch Naruto imitating one of the meditative frogs, the posture a perfect replica except for the ear to ear grin. Sasuke couldn't help it. He burst out laughing just as the neared the center of town, just blocks from his apartment with Itachi.

"What are you two doing?" Jiraya asked, turning to scowl at his grandson, who had stopped even trying to be surreptitious and openly mocked the frog. Jiraya joined the laughter, refocusing on the road.

The light was green. The intersection clear. There was no need to break.

Sasuke saw the semi an instant after Jiraya did, the enormous lights barreling towards them, ever faster, ever closer, just in time to realize what the old man was doing and cry out wordlessly. The world jerked violently towards the semi, then Sasuke was on the ground, shattered glass and shards of metal bolts scattered around him.

He didn't feel anything. Not the cold cement beneath him or the sting of his landing. Not the cuts on his face and hands where his body reflexively tried to brace his impact and failed. Not the bones of his arm suddenly visible to the world.

His vision narrowed and the edges blurred, until all he could see was the meditating frog inches from his nose. It too was on its side, red metal skin scratched by the sudden flight, lidless eyes staring mercilessly.

Sasuke was grateful for oblivion.


	6. The Reason Why

The Reason Why

** A/N: So I originally intended to make you wait. Again. But I am a bit behind schedule—ha, schedule, me, that's a laugh—for this story, and, let's face it: I just wanted to let you guys off the hook. I hate having to wait, you hate having to wait, so, not waiting. This time. Plus, I got some pretty good reviews from the last chapter, soooo…hint hint. Well, without further ado, onto the story. **

Itachi's phone was dead. Not the typical the-battery-is-drained dead, but rather the so-many-people-keep-trying-to-call-so-I-smashed-it-to-get-some-peace dead. The mutilated corpse lay on the end table, bits of smashed circuitry showing through the cracked plastic casing. That he resorted to violence rather than simply removing the battery was a testament to his stress.

He knew this would bring some trouble later, a great deal of trouble actually, but couldn't bring himself to care. Across the hall, in an intensive care room closed to all non-essential personnel—and how Itachi loathed being determined "non-essential"—his little brother slept a drug induced sleep, bleeding, broken, and barely alive.

Uchiha Itachi did not take "no" for an answer, at least not lightly, and at his insistence, the curtains were drawn back on the glass windows, allowing him to at least keep vigil from a distance. They didn't understand that this was _his_ fault, that Sasuke was his responsibility and every injury was a personal affront to the competence of Uchiha Itachi.

The sheer number of wounds implied utter incompetence on the part of the eldest Uchiha. Utter failure to perform even the simplest of tasks: keep a perfectly healthy young adult alive.

A dozen machines lent tubes of fluids to the reposed raven, some supplying medicines from bags draped over a metal stand, others essential fluids and nutrients to sustain him while he couldn't eat. Beneath the clamor of conversation and sound radiating from the nurses' station, Itachi fancied he could hear the steady beep as the machine traced jagged lines across the monitor, each represent another beat, another instant of life.

That line represented all of Itachi's hopes, fears, and prayers reduced to a single, quantitative unit.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

XxXxXxX

Somewhere down the hall, Uzumaki Naruto received similar care, and though the doctors reported the blond's condition with almost as much regularity as they did Sasuke's, Itachi didn't register anything that did not pertain directly to his otouto. A part of him knew that somewhere Jiraya lay in surgery, bleeding internally from dozens of wounds, and the old man's prognosis was not good. A part of him knew that despite how bad Sasuke looked, he would live, would recover in full, but the bigger part of him continued to fret simply because Sasuke couldn't say "I'm fine, Itachi."

The CEO curled on the uncomfortable chair, knees drawn tight to his chest and supporting his chin, oblivious to everything but the beeping he couldn't actually hear. So he didn't notice when a strong hand clasped his wrist until it was too late to resist the force drawing him to his feet and into a forceful embrace.

"Ita-kun," The assailant sighed into his hair, breath tickling the side of Itachi's neck. "You're safe." Itachi realized who it was an instant before the lips met his. There was an urgency to the kiss, a desperation that surprised Itachi. He allowed himself to be kissed, to be loved, for a moment before drawing back.

"Hatake, I—"

"Ita-kun, I don't think…I don't know what I would have done if you'd been hurt. I lost you once, I don't think I could bear it again, more permanently." Kakashi kissed him again, with a little less urgency, but no less passion.

"Hatake," Itachi sighed, folding into his once lover's arms as if the years since Paris had never separated them. They stood for a long time, each assuring himself that the other really was there, was alive. Doctors scooted around them, and nurses cast suspicious looks at the obviously private moment occurring in the middle of one of the busiest halls on the unit, but no one tried to break them apart.

Finally Kakashi steered them to the chairs and the squeezed into one of the extra wide ones, fingers twined tightly. Itachi let his head rest on Kakashi's shoulder, and Kakashi traced small designs on Itachi's far shoulder in an undeniably comforting manner.

"Have you heard anything yet?" Kakashi asked, breaking their silence and jolting Itachi out of his temporary reprieve from reality.

"Sauske…Sasuke is going to make it. They have to perform a small operation to set his shoulder and mend the compound fracture in his arm, but they are waiting for him to stabilize more first. His heart stopped in the ambulance, and even…even though they have him stable now, they worry that once he's on the table he…he might die from the strain. So they are waiting, and watching to make sure he doesn't…code again." Itachi's eyes latched onto the monitor again, watching the blips on the screen as if they might end this nightmare.

"Have you heard anything about Jiraya or Naruto? The doctors wouldn't tell me anything, since they aren't my family. I had a hard enough time convincing them to let me see you."

"Naruto will be fine. They have him sedated down the hall and want to keep him for observations, but the kid walked away from the acc—" Itachi choked on the word, "without much more than a few scratches. He only needed a handful of stitches where he sliced his hands trying to help Jiraya." Itachi repeated what the doctors told him, the information recorded by the logical part of his mind that stored everything away against a future need. That tiny part of his mind allowed him to study Kakashi's photographs on the internet during business meetings for the intervening years. Someday he'd have to give that part a raise.

"I'm glad he's alright. I'm kinda fond of the knucklehead." Kakashi said, leaning his head against Itachi's.

"Jiraya isn't, I mean, they say that Jiraya might not—" Itachi cut off abruptly as a doctor emerged from Sasuke's room.

"Mr. Uchiha?" The doctor asked, hesitant to interrupt and earn another bout of Itachi's fury.

"How is he?" Itachi was on his feet in an instant, eyes reddened by sleepless nights filled with conflicting traces of hope, fear, exhaustion, and concern.

"We want to go ahead with the surgery this afternoon. Sasuke has been stable for just about three days now, and we feel that, since he has experienced no further difficulties, the sooner we can finish patching him up, the better the odds of a full recovery become. Are your parents coming? I just need consent from his legal guardian to proceed."

"I'll sign them. My parents are half a world away, and have named me a legal caretaker."

"In that case, there are a few risks associated with the procedure." Seeing the impatience in Itachi's eyes, she rushed on. "Namely, he may have a poor reaction to the anesthetic, or suffer another cardiac episode during the procedure. And while shoulder reconstruction is not terribly invasive, there is the chance for infection whenever we perform surgery, and there is a chance, about 5%, that Sasuke won't survive such a procedure in his condition."

"You will fix him. You will keep him alive. You will do whatever it takes to accomplish these objectives. Am I understood?" Itachi scrawled his name on the indicated line and handed the battered clipboard back to the astounded doctor.

Kakashi laughed. Even in a medical setting where Itachi's skill and experience were strictly limited to Band-Aids, cold water, and their primary physician's number programmed into his speed-dial, Itachi managed to strike fear into hearts and demand utter obedience.

"When was the last time you slept, Ita?" Kakashi wrapped an arm around Itachi as he sat down again.

"Four nights, five days ago."

"Sasuke's been here three days…"

"I pulled an all-nighter for work the day before. Its why I couldn't go get Sasuke…I was in a meeting finalizing some details. If I wouldn't have been so stupid, Sasuke wouldn't be here now."

"Itachi." Kakashi's voice left no room for argument. "If you would have been driving, if you would have gotten hurt…if you were the one driving do you think any of you would have survived?"

"My car is perfectly safe."

"While in motion, yes. It is fast, pretty, sleek, sexy, and an utter death trap. The thing didn't even come with cup holders, Itachi."

"But—" Itachi sighed, by which Kakashi knew he won the point.

"Now that we have your self loathing allayed—and you will _not_ blame yourself for this, Ita—let's discuss why you are killing yourself trying to observe your brother, who will not wake up until the doctors want him to be awake, and who is certainly not going anywhere, when you could take advantage of this time and rest so that you can be there to support him when he wakes." Kakashi pressed his slight advantage and earned a scowl.

"Fuck, Kakashi, why is it that you wait until I'm half asleep to start making sense?"

"Language, Ita," Kakashi chided, pulling his lover closer. "You are in public."

"I doubt vulgarities will offend the public sensibilities more than this." Itachi gestured at their embrace, their relationship.

"You may have a point, but if you keep using language like that I may be tempted to—" Itachi slapped Kakashi's wrist before he could complete the sentence.

"We are in public. You can't just go around saying things like that." Itachi stifled a yawn and snuggled closer. "Hmm…no wonder I couldn't sleep." He murmured, eyes finally closing, muscles slack with pre-sleep relaxation, his tension and anxiety erased by Kakashi's slowly massaging finger.. "I didn't have someone convincing me…convincing…..that it would be soooo…nice." Itachi yawned again. "Wake me when the doctors come back?"

"Of course, Ita-kun." Kakashi promised, but Itachi was already fast asleep.

XxXxXxXxX

Naruto woke alone.

Bleary blue eyes blinked away the remnants of sleep and searched the room. Pain lanced through his head, the last vestiges of a protest against the drug-induced sleep, and clouded his thoughts. He couldn't remember why he hurt so much. Or what day it was. He hadn't been to a tournament lately, mostly because of school and the rush of early spring Icha shoots, so it couldn't be a concussion again. Could it?

Naruto sat up, still alone. There was the usual "vigil" chair beside his bed, but no anxious Jiraya beamed at him. The conspicuous absence nagged at the back of Naruto's mind. He knew why, but couldn't remember what happened, other than it must have involved Jiraya somehow. The old pervert was always waiting when he woke up, after concussions, after surgeries, after…car accidents.

The IV ripped off the back of his hand when he jumped out of bed. Naruto yelped and pressed the bleeding wound to his mouth. Padding into the hallway, Naruto searched for a doctor, or a nurse, or someone who could answer him.

"Where's Jiraya?" he asked a young man in a lab coat. The silver-haired medic pushed his glasses up with two fingers and studied Naruto for a minute.

"You must be Uzumaki Naruto. How are you feeling?" The doctor eyed the still bleeding had suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter. Where's Jiraya? Is he okay?"

"I'll take you to the waiting room, Naruto-kun." The doctor draped a thin robe over Naruto's shoulders. "But let's make you presentable first, ne? We do not wish to give all the nurses nosebleeds." Naruto stared at him, uncomprehending for a minute. Then it dawned on him that he was wearing a hospital gown. That opened in the back. A blush stole across his cheeks.

"Why are we going to a waiting room? Is that where Jiraya is?" Naruto asked as they walked. The doctor skillfully bandaged his hand as they walked, repairing the damage from the IV.

"Jiraya is in OR 3, in the middle of a procedure. He should be done in four hours, and if all goes well, awake another hour after that. You can wait here," the doctor gestured to the wall of chairs opposite a foreboding metal door. A bright red light high on the wall indicated the operating suite was in use. Naruto slumped into the chair, suddenly exhausted from the short walk.

"He's gonna be alright, then? He's okay?"

The doctor knelt and lifted Naruto's foot, slipping on a thick pair of socks with little rubber tread.

"That is the goal of the procedure. I am not his attending, so I cannot give you all the details, I am afraid. You shall just have to wait."

Naruto frowned, slumping further in the chair. The doctor sat down next to him, and they waited in silence, listening to the periodic tick of the clock at the end of the hall.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sasuke wandered the halls, his hospital robe drawn tight over his gown against the omnipresent draft of the hospital. He limped, fighting against the pain of a severe sprain, and used his IV stand as a crutch. His right arm hung in a sling, throbbing in time to his shambling.

Itachi's coat, uncharacteristically crumpled and smashed against the back of the chair, told Sasuke his brother was somewhere in the building. The empty paper coffee cup—cafeteria fare by the looks—gave him a clue as to Itachi's whereabouts. Bored with sleeping, with sitting still, and unable to stay in the room alone, Sasuke set out to find Itachi, hoping his brother could dispel the ghosts in the too sterile room.

The tiny rubber tread on his socks made an irritating sound as he walked, half way between a squeak and a squelch. Sasuke's eyebrow twitched in irritation. God couldn't help the inventor of the damnable footwear when Sasuke found him.

When he reached the end of the hall, he descended the stairs. Slowly because his IV proved cumbersome, and laboriously. He forced himself to rest three times in the twenty-four steps, wedging the IV stand into the railing and slumping on the steps. Eight steps from the bottom, it occurred to him that he should have looked for an elevator. Or a nurse. Or gone back to bed. In fact, he realized as he struggled to breathe, anything would have been better than going down stairs in his condition. Except going upstairs. Too far, too committed to stop, he struggled down the last stairs, step by agonizing step.

His left leg ached by the time he touched level ground again, and he could hardly bear to place any weight on it. The pain slowed his progress further and forced him to use the IV stand as more of a scooter than a crutch. Sasuke's eyebrow twitch devolved into a full out Uchiha glare. This was utterly demeaning.

A sign hung from the ceiling, directing him to a dozen different departments, and, thankfully, a waiting room. Following the arrow, Sasuke rolled and limped his way down a series of ever narrowing halls. Every time he reached another junction of halls, the arrows directed him toward the increasingly elusive waiting room. Of course, there were no chairs in any of these halls. That would have been too easy.

After he killed the sock maker, the hospital architect was dead

XxXxXxXxXxX

Kakashi watched Itachi sleep, certain that if he left Itachi would start imbibing coffee intravenously. Two nights and one otouto shoulder surgery after Kakashi's arrival, Itachi had finally conceded his need to sleep, and retired to a dormitory set aside for family members.

One conclusion Kakashi reached while watching Itachi sleep was that he drank entirely too much coffee. The shadows under his eyes and the lines on his face bespoke the nights spent doing anything but sleeping. Itachi looked older than he had in Paris, more than the few intervening years could account for.

The other thing Kakashi realized was that Itachi was positively adorable while he was sleeping. It wasn't as if he did anything embarrassing, he didn't snore or drool, or even make cute mumbling sounds while he dreamed—Itachi was far too self-possessed for anything so degrading. However he did snuggle against his pillow, curled in on himself like a cat. Or a panther. Typically people looked calmer, more peaceful in sleep, but Itachi merely looked contemplative. In fact, if Kakashi hadn't been certain Itachi was sleeping, he would have wagered that Itachi was plotting something complex and potentially manipulative.

But he was just so cute.

A strand of hair curled over his face, pulled free from the tie at Itachi's nape, and dancing slightly with every slow breath. That one flaw ruined the evil master mind façade and made Itachi just one more caring brother, ready to drive himself crazy with sleep deprivation to make his little brother better. The fact that he clung to Kakashi's hand only amplified the effect.

A doctor came to the door, knocking softly on the frame before entering. He opened his mouth to speak, clipboard laden with test results balanced on his arm, but Kakashi held up a finger, silencing him. The photographer pointed at Itachi, then mimed sleep. He stood, prying his fingers free and motioning for the doctor to follow him into the hall.

"I am Kakashi Hatake, a close friend to the Uchihas. Did Sasuke's surgery go well?"

"Yes. I just wanted to tell Mr. Uchiha that his brother ought to make a full recovery, though he will need extensive physical therapy to regain full use of the arm. He's young enough that there shouldn't be any lasting effects." The doctor had seen the hand holding, made several valid assumptions about the type of "friendship" Kakashi meant, and decided to treat Kakashi as part of the Uchiha family.

"Is there anything that would urgently require Itachi's signature or presence? He has only gotten four hours of sleep in the past few days, and if he hears Sasuke is about to wake, he won't even try to rest. I don't need both of them admitted." Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and grinned.

"No, Mr. Uchiha doesn't need to do anything just yet. Sasuke shouldn't wake from the anesthesia for at least another hour or two, and we have a few tests to run before we'll allow him visitors."

"Tests?" Kakashi quirked an eyebrow, radiating an aura of extreme displeasure.

"For infection, range of movement, level of pain, appetite, responsiveness…and so on. Just standard post-ops, really." The doctor folded under the weight of Kakashi's glare.

"Good. I trust you'll let us know when he's awake." Kakashi made it a statement, a thinly veiled order.

"Of course." The doctor bobbed his head in agreement and practically ran away. Kakashi shrugged and returned to his perch, twisting his fingers back into Itachi's grip as if he never left.

"I get the feeling we won't see that one again, Ita-kun," Kakashi mused absently.

XxXxXxXxX

Naruto jumped out of his chair and all but tackled the surgeon as he left the OR.

"Well? He's good now, right? Gramp's is gonna be okay?"

"Umm…" The surgeon stammered, tired from the long procedure and confused as to why a blond fireball was attacking him. "And you are…?"

"Naruto Uzumaki. Jiraya is my grandfather. How is he?" Naruto practically bounced in place, unable to complete contain his anxiety anymore.

"As far as the surgery is concerned, it was a success." A whoop from Naruto interrupted. "We managed to reduce the intracranial pressure to within normal levels, and there are no signs of severe damage to his internal organs. If he wakes up later, he might make a full recovery."

"Jiraya's going to be okay!" Naruto punched the air and did a little celebration dance.

"That is not what I said, Uzumaki-kun."

XxXxXxXxX

Sasuke heard a familiar shout of joy echoing down the hall, conveniently coming from the opposite direction of the hallway that would allegedly lead him to the ever elusive waiting room. Curious, and convinced that the signs were merely sadistic lies designed to keep him lost and wandering the halls for all eternity, Sasuke abandoned the sign and headed toward the sound.

Rounding a corner, he saw a blond blur and heard indecipherable ranting. Sasuke shuffled forward, blinked, and cocked his head.

"Dobe?" he said. Sasuke was too far away for anyone to hear him over Naruto's ranting, so he shuffled forward more, ignoring the squeaking of his socks. A doctor with silver hair pulled into a small tail at the nape of his neck stood slightly behind the wildly gesticulating Naruto, observing passively. At that moment, the doctor looked straight at Sasuke, pushed up his glasses with two fingers, and walked away.

Sasuke shivered. He kept shuffling forward, focused on Naruto, and trying to understand what had the blond suddenly so agitated.

"What the hell do you mean that isn't what you said?" Naruto shouted.

"I can't guarantee that he will wake up…that's why we had the surgery. He didn't respond to any of the other treatments. We hope this works, but honestly ked, I have to tell you that it's a long shot. We won't know for a few days, but I want you to know that the odds are really not that good that he'll wake. It's possible, but I wouldn't pin my hopes to it, in your position."

"The fuck does that even mean, 'don't pin my hope to it'? He's my grandfather, the guy whose been there, through everything, always. And now you're telling me not to hope? To hell with that. You go back in there, and you fix him. You make him better. I don't care how you do it, just fix this." Naruto unconsciously echoed Itachi's words.

"Dobe!" Sasuke shouted, finally catching the blond's attention.

"What! Teme! I don't have time for—" Naruto began.

"Naruto," Sasuke interrupted, beckoning his dobe closer. "Let the doctors do their work. Shouting at them isn't going to change things." Sasuke was close enough now that he could wrap his good arm around Naruto, and offer a semblance of a comforting hug. All of a sudden Naruto shuddered and buried his face against Sasuke's shoulder.

"He can—can't be…" Naruto sobbed, unable to finish the sentence.

"Shh…do—Naruto. It'll…shhh." Sasuke tried to rub Naruto's back comfortingly, but the motion was just awkward. Unused to physical contact, much less consolation, Sasuke floundered for the appropriate response, thankfully managing to cut himself off before assuring the dobe everything would be okay. It wouldn't be okay. Not in the slightest. His leg started shaking from the strain of standing, so he guided them into the chairs.

The surgeon cast him a grateful look before retreating, leaving them to their private moment. Not that he was trying to be heartless, but after eight hours of surgery, he was tired, sore, and had no patience or coherence to deal with bereaved family members. If the old man had died, that would be one thing, but as things stood everything was hypothetical. Sheer conjecture spun of tenuous ifs and maybes that lacked even the slightest scientific foundation.

Sasuke sighed and pulled Naruto closer as a new wave of tears began, slightly envious of the surgeon's escape. Resigned to the tears staining his shoulder, Sasuke settled himself more comfortably in the chair, which Naruto took as a cue to tighten his grip and prevent the Uchiha from escaping. Unfortunately this meant Naruto grabbed Sasuke's recently operated upon shoulder with a great deal of force, earning a soft yelp from Sasuke.

"Naruto...Naruto, let go…Dobe! Let go of my shoulder….Dobe!" Naruto continued sobbing, but moved his hand slightly.

"Sorry…" Naruto sniffed and pulled back at length, eyes red and swelling. "I'm sorry. You're hurt and I'm just…" Naruto trailed off, trying to keep himself from breaking down again.

"It's okay, dobe. I get it. My shoulder is just really tender, I mean, it hurts even when you're not touching it, which you couldn't have known, and its just…well, its fine."

"I'm glad you're okay, Sasuke. Really, I wouldn't want you to be hurt, even though we don't always get along. I don't seem like I'm happy, but it's just cause…"

"I get it, dobe, just calm down and breathe." Sasuke cut the blond off before he embarrassed himself. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of Naruto's eyes, and there were already shining tracks on his cheeks. Sasuke's stomach clenched in sympathy.

Naruto leaned against Sasuke, curled against Sasuke's side, Sasuke's arm wrapped over his shoulders. His breathing was still ragged from crying, and Sasuke hugged him closer. They lapsed into silence, neither knowing what to say to the other, neither wanting to ruin the moment.

XxXxXxXxX

Itachi glared at the empty bed.

"'He won't wake for a few hours. He'll be sleepy, and won't want to move. He'll probably be in bed for a day or so. ' Evidently," Itachi glared at the doctor, "such is not the case. Now, where is Sasuke?"

Kakashi put a comforting hand on Itachi's shoulder.

"And you," Itachi snarled at Kakashi, "should have woken me up when Sasuke got out of surgery."

The photographer squirmed under the intensity of the glare, shuddering slightly. All of his conviction that letting Itachi rest was the best plan melted and bubbled away into the atmosphere. For a moment, Kakashi was grateful for all the practice he had at surviving the patented Uchiha glare. It still made him uncomfortable, when executed properly by Itachi, but it didn't paralyze him half as much as it did the doctors.

Poor suckers didn't look like they were breathing.

"In my defense," Kakashi began slowly, disheartened by Itachi ramping up the power of his glower, "You can't do much for him when you are drunk from lack of sleep. He would have wandered off whether or not you took a nap, and at least this way you have the energy to tear this place apart brick by brick to find him."

"Brick by brick will be far too quick, and not nearly thorough enough." Itachi grumbled. Kakashi knew he was safe when he heard no further argument from Itachi. Yet another death avoided.

"Now," Itachi continued. "Lead me to your security offices. I want your camera footage." The glare fixed on the nearest doctor, a young woman with a mousey demeanor. Unlike the others, at least she could manage a nod. Kakashi assumed that she was accustomed to being frightened and intimidated by patients and family, so even if Itachi took threatening to a whole new level, she still knew how to operate.

She led them into the back halls, through several doors marked "Authorized Personnel00 Only" and down what seemed like a thousand stairs. Once in the basement, there navigated a series of blank hallways. White floors, white walls, white ceiling, all in the same grayish state of age, that lacked any sort of directional markers. There weren't even glowing "Exit" signs, an obvious violation of fire code that no one seemed to mind.

Plain white doors interrupted the walls at intervals, providing at least some form of reference as to the scale of the seemingly endless halls. Nothing interrupted the silence so heavy in the air, not even their footsteps.

Kakashi was so busy trying to figure out how the quiet doctor was navigating and thinking about how interesting it would be to have a photo shoot here, where perspective was so skewed, and fantasizing about what sort of "medical" costumes Jiraya would dream up for such a shoot, that he walked straight into Itachi when the anxious Uchiha stopped.

"This is t-the Sec-security office, M-mr. Uchiha." The doctor pulled a key from her lab coat pocket and unlocked the door.

"Kotetsu and Izumo are our best," she continued, stutter gone now that she didn't have to meet Itachi's eyes. "They'll be able to show you whatever you'd like. Meanwhile, we'll have some of the nurses check around for Sasuke. I'm sure he just went in search of someone, and he can't have gotten far in his condition."

"If anything has happened to my brother, you can rest assured that I will sue this hospital into—"

"Now, now, Ita-kun, it isn't nice to threaten the kind doctors who did everything you wanted. Once we find Sasuke he'll stop being such a crab. Until then," Kakashi shrugged and winked at the nurse, sending a blush across her cheeks. "Thank you for bringing us down here. Would you mind waiting a moment? I think in his anxiety, Itachi might not be able to find his way out of here again." Kakashi smiled and the doctor melted.

"Ummm…sure…that's fine."

XxXxXxXxX

Kakashi jogged down the hall, turning the corner in time to see Itachi's sleeve vanish around another bend at the far end of the new corridor. Sighing, the photographer picked up the pace, drawing curious glances from the staff. It wasn't every day that two gorgeous, well dressed men ran around the hospital.

By the time Kakashi rounded the next corner, he expected to have lost Itachi. Instead, Itachi stood about halfway down the hall, staring at the chairs thoughtfully. An IV stand, stark silver against the cream walls, traced near invisible lines down to a figure in the chair. A mop of black hair poking up told the rest of the story.

"So he runs away, wanders off, whatever it is he wants to call it, to cuddle with the man he has spent the better part of the past year pummeling. When he wakes up, I'm going to kill him." Itachi mused when Kakashi was within earshot.

"How about I buy you a bottle of tequila, and we do shots, and you don't commit fratricide," Kakashi said.

"Make it two bottles and I'll consider it."

XxXxXxXxX

Itachi slumped in his chair in the hallway considering how much of a donation he'd need to make to get more comfortable seating installed. He took a sip of coffee out of habit more than thirst, and winced, mentally doubling his figure. They could have a good barista on staff. Or at least coffee that didn't come from a can.

Through the partially open door, Itachi saw doctors milling about his brother. Some nurses checked his vitals, jotting numbers in immaculate script on Sasuke's charts, while the surgeon and Sasuke's attending poked and prodded at Sasuke's shoulder. Though he couldn't see it presently, the angry red surrounding the sutures worried Itachi, and but evidently not the doctors. They conferred in happy tones, exclaiming over such and such progress, and how well such and such was mending. Apparently Sasuke had a greater range of motion than they'd expected, and more strength in his arm too.

Before they ever stepped out the door, Itachi knew they were sending Sasuke home.

What he didn't anticipate was the second part of their request.

"When you take Sasuke home, will you take Naruto too? Staying here, not eating, not sleeping, just staring at Jiraya, isn't healthy. He's grieving a loss that hasn't happened, might not happen, and we have several more weeks of tests and procedures before—"

"Yes." Itachi stood, coat draped delicately over his arm, shirt and tie perfectly pressed, every hair in place. He was once again every inch the head of a multi-billion dollar company.

"Thank you," the doctor said, obviously relieved.

"Sasuke, Naruto," Itachi swept past the doctor without so much as a thank you. Kakashi smiled apologetically before following Itachi into the room.

"Get dressed, we're heading home." Itachi ordered, gathering Sasuke's things and placing them neatly in a duffle bag. He folded each shirt with a mechanic precision, and collected the books, CDs, and computer neatly into the top. With a final sounding zip, Itachi shouldered the bag.

"I'm not leaving, Itachi." Naruto stared pointedly at the floor. "I can't leave Jiraya. I won't." Naruto chanced a glance at Itachi and flinched.

"You are coming with us. This is not open for negotiation. Pack your things."

"No."

"Uzumaki, do not try me."

"Screw you. I'm not going."

"Dobe," Sasuke interjected, "At least come for dinner."

"But I don't…I can't..."

"Good, it's settled then." Kakashi handed Naruto a packed bag and guided the confused blond out the door.

"What just happened?" Naruto asked once they were alone in the hall.

"You just tried to argue with Itachi. You are quite lucky to still be alive."

"But I just…and he didn't…"

"I know. Sometimes you just can't ask questions and live."

Itachi and Sasuke followed in stony Uchiha silence, Itachi carefully watching for even the slightest sign of weakness. If Sasuke so much as tripped over a speck of dust, Itachi was getting him a wheel chair and rolling him home. No questions allowed.

Kakashi loaded Naruto into the back of his car, and Itachi deposited Sasuke on the other side. Sliding into the passenger seat, Itachi slammed his door and froze, sniffing.

"What?" Kakashi asked, starting the car.

"Lemons? Lemons. Really? Really, Hatake?"

"You have a problem with my car, Uchiha?" Kakashi backed out of the stall.

"You forget that I know what this car used to smell like. And lemons?"

"I got the smell out. Lemon was the only thing that would neutralize it. Get over it."

Itachi sighed and shook his head, turning to watch the city lights fly by. At this hour, it would take an hour or more to cross town and get to his apartment, though with Kakashi driving it would be half that.

"I think they're sleeping." Kakashi flicked a glance at Itachi, then gestured to the back seat with his eyes.

"Really?" Itachi sighed. "Will you help me take them up, when we get there?"

"Sure. Then I'll finally get to see that new place of yours." Kakashi smirked.

"Great. Now another weirdo knows where I live." Itachi sighed and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face, clearly being melodramatic.

"Another? Who was the first?" Kakashi glanced away from the road again, meeting Itachi's eyes for a long moment.

"Jiraya sent Gai to get Sasuke one day."

"I'm sorry." From personal experience, Kakashi knew that having Gai anywhere near a personal space could be very damaging to the soul.

They lapsed into silence again. Kakashi focused on the road again, navigating smoothly through the congested traffic. Well past rush hour, it theoretically should have been simple, but in practice, the city never slept. Rush hour simply meant that traffic moved slower, not necessarily that there were any more cars about.

"I miss France, sometimes." Kakashi said after yet another car cut him off.

"Hmm."

"Don't you? Everyone walking or biking or taking the train. The beautiful countryside."

"It was beautiful…"

"But?" Kakashi prompted.

"I can't say that I ever got to see much of it. A certain photographer kept me quite busy."

"I don't remember you ever complaining."

"I'm still not. But I agree, it would be nice to go back. Those years were…"

"Perfect?" Kakashi suggested, grinning broadly.

"'Good' was the word I was thinking of, actually, but yes, perfect wouldn't be inaccurate." Itachi studied Kakashi's profile, amused by the way Kakashi made a point of looking back with the same regularity as he checked his mirrors.

"Good? I'm hurt."

"Shut up, Hatake."

"Why do you keep calling me that? After everything?"

Itachi studied his fingernails for a moment, stalling for time. Kakashi inadvertently saved him from answering by parking in an empty stall in Itachi's parking garage. Itachi all but jumped from the car. He gathered Sasuke from the back seat, arranging him piggy-back to carry him upstairs.

Feeling nostalgia wash over him, Itachi remembered the last time he'd carried Sasuke, when his foolish little brother had broken an ankle while they were out running. Even though he was supposed to be training for a marathon, Itachi wound up carrying the stoically wounded Sasuke home and driving him to an ER.

"Coming?" Kakashi asked, interrupting Itachi's reverie. Naruto's head lolled against Kakashi's shoulder, eyes closed, mouth half open in a soft snore.

"I suppose I have to, unless you already know the way?" A quirked eyebrow made the insinuation a jest.

"Well you know…" Kakashi smiled and moved to let Itachi pass.

They crossed the lot, bathed in the harsh orange glow of the incandescent lights. Itachi balanced Sasuke and freed one hand to type an access code into the pad by the elevator, well aware that Kakashi watched and memorized every movement.

The irony of a photographer with a photographic memory was lost to so many.

"I'm surprised they managed to sleep, after what happened. A lot of people would be traumatized by it." Kakashi mused, studying Naruto.

"Neither of them have really been sleeping well. The doctors gave me a prescription for a sedative, just in case they can't rest, but I doubt we'll need it." Itachi shifted Sasuke slightly, bending awkwardly under the weight of his not so little otouto. "They're young enough that they just drop of like rocks when they get tired."

"Lucky them. Oh to be young." Kakashi sighed dramatically, earning a glare.

"If you so much as think about the power and beauty of youth, I swear, Hatake.."

Kakashi just laughed.

Itachi led the way down the plush hallway, not allowing Kakshi any time to admire the photographs lining the walls. So what if they were just cheap reproductions, taken to look pretty rather than have some sort of meaning. Kakashi still wanted a look.

A ring of keys appeared in Itachi's hand, from where would remain a mystery as the man never so much as jingled while he walked. With a deft flick of his wrist, Itachi unlocked the door and opened it.

"Come on in." Itachi said, flicking on some lights. He crossed the little foyer and disappeared into what had to be Sasuke's room. When Kakashi entered the dark bedroom, Itachi was carefully pulling off Sasuke's shoes and socks and tucking his brother into bed.

"Where should I put Naruto?"

"Just on the bed. They're drugged, they have to behave." Itachi defended against the slowly raised eyebrow.

Once they had the boys settled, Itachi led the way into the living room and flopped onto the couch. Kakashi hesitated a moment, unwilling to push the boundaries of whatever their relationship had become. They hadn't done more than kissed in years, hadn't talked in years.

"Do you want some coffee?" Itachi was back on his feet and halfway to the kitchen. Sure enough, left to his own devices, Itachi always returned to coffee. It was a wonder he managed to avoid malnutrition, considering.

"Sure."

XxXxXxXxX

It was nearly midnight by the time they finished off the coffee, but neither had noticed the passing of time. That the coffee was fabulous helped things along, but mostly, they simply enjoyed talking, saying things that meant nothing and served only to fill the void of years.

"I'd better get home." Kakashi stood, placing his empty mug by the sink. Itachi remained seated for a moment, glaring daggers at his own mug, the same black ceramic vessel he'd used while they were in Paris. Funny, Kakashi thought, how so much can change and leave the little things untouched.

Finally Itachi stood too, and followed Kakashi to the door. The atmosphere seemed suddenly dense. Kakashi reached for the doorknob slowly, as if afraid it might bite him, and opened the door even slower.

"Kakashi," Itachi blurted, hand shooting out to clutch Kakashi's sleeve.

Kakashi paused. Glanced back at Itachi.

"Stay?" Not quite a question, not quite an order.

The door clicked shut, the locks snapped in place.

A silver eyebrow arched above laughing eyes.

"So it's 'Kakashi' now, huh?"

XxXxXxXxX

**Oh, and how things heat up. Naruto and Sasuke aren't trying to kill each other—at the moment at least, and Itachi and Kakashi are rekindling a lost romance. Yeah, there's going to be some KakaIta action going on. Those two are just too pretty to not be together. You know you like it. **

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**So here's the deal. You write reviews, I write chapters. Everyone goes home happy. If everyone who has favorited/alerted this story reviewed once per chapter… Tell me what you think, and the 75th reviewer gets a special request! (aka one-shot of pairing of your choice...) So click the button….you know you want to…. **

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	7. One Eye Open

One Eye Open

"I hope you realize that you are getting that cleaned. At least twice. With bleach."

Itachi cracked an eye open, slightly disoriented by the fact that the world was upside down and blurred. Blinking, he turned his head, wincing at the stiffness in his neck.

"Meh, Sasuke, what are you shouting about?" Itachi grumbled in a pre-coffee state of quasi-delirium.

"The couch. You're cleaning it. Or burning it and getting a new one. I can't believe you did _that_ in the middle of the house. And with _him._" Sasuke glared from the other side of the coffee table, too disgusted to approach. With an eyebrow elegantly arched, Itachi tried to kick his brain into gear and figure out what Sasuke meant.

_"So it's Kakashi now, huh?" Itachi could see the lust in the silver eyes and shivered._

_ "Mmm, it's always Kakashi. We promised." Itachi leaned into the kiss, happily letting his body press against Kakashi. The familiarity of it only made it that much better. _

_ Kakashi's hands were everywhere, running down his sides, along his spine, through his hair. Such talented fingers only needed a moment to loosen the tie and coax the buttons open on Itachi's shirt. Itachi let his hands drop to Kakashi's hips, pulling him closer. Their moans vanished into the kiss. The stoic Uchiha felt the heat of Kakashi's kisses burning his lips and rushing straight to his groin. _

_ Before he even realized they were moving, the backs of Itachi's knees struck the arm of the couch and he toppled backwards, dragging the photographer with him. Kakashi pulled back just enough that their teeth didn't jar together. He ground his hips into Itachi's, growling at the pleasure. _

_ "'kashi…" Itachi moaned softly. arching into the caresses. Kakashi attacked Itachi's neck with feather light kisses. Itachi fumbled with Kakashi's vest and shirt, his hands clumsy. He grunted, half in pleasure, half in frustration, and finally succeeded in removing the offending garment. Kakashi slid one hand down Itachi's side to grip the thin hip and pull him up._

_ Itachi stiffened, head rolling back and biting his lip to suppress a particularly loud moan. Kakashi nuzzled Itachi's neck gently._

_ "We can't go farther, can we?" Kakashi whispered, already knowing the answer._

_ "I don't want you to stop." Itachi kissed Kakashi gently. _

_ "But…"_

_ "But." Itachi agreed, scooting over so Kakashi could fit on the couch better._

_ "Well, since we're already comfortable…" Kakashi pulled Itachi into his arms and spooned behind him. "We might as well make the most of it." Itachi could feel his eyelids drooping, so heavy, and he _was_ comfortable…_

Itachi shifted slightly, noting the absence of shooting pain in his spine, and felt a belt buckle press against his hip. He sighed, both saddened by the fact that he had not, in fact, done anything, and relieved that he had not done something and failed to remember it the next day. He pushed himself up, rolling Kakashi into the back of the couch in the process. As the cold air touched his bare chest Itachi regretted moving. Kakashi was so warm.

"Look around, Sasuke. What do you see?" Itachi returned the glare, the intensity weakened by the lack of caffeine.

"Two shirts. An undershirt. A vest. Three socks. Assorted furniture."

"Note the absence of pants."

"I really don't want to think about where your pants may or may not be, Itachi."

"Bear in mind both of us were wearing them yesterday. It is very difficult to do_ that_ while wearing pants and undergarments. Also," Itachi flicked the blankets off them, amusing himself with Sasuke's reflexive recoil, "If something had transpired, I wouldn't still be wearing them."

Sasuke peeked between his fingers.

"That's just nasty. Seriously." Sasuke glared.

"You think that's nasty, you should have seen Ita-kun when I took him chained to the bed in Paris…now that was…_nasty._" Kakashi offered, his malicious smirk vanishing as Itachi smacked him.

"Do not tell my brother kinky lies about our sex life." Itachi said.

"The fact that you _have_ a sex life, with my photographer, is in itself, kinda kinky. And still gross, Itachi."

"I didn't ask you to watch."

Sasuke turned a brilliant shade of red.

There was a loud, deliberate knock on the door. Grateful at being saved from replying, Sasuke leapt for the door as Itachi swore.

Another knock.

"Shit. What time is it? Shit." Itachi hissed, fumbling for his phone.

10:47 am.

7 missed calls.

"Shit." Itachi ran a hand through his hair and cast about the living room. Sasuke was frozen, halfway to the door, astounded by a _frazzled_—maybe even frantic—Itachi.

"I'll get the door," Sasuke said slowly, lost in trying to comprehend the scene. Having never seen Itachi frantic about anything—Itachi could make decision under pressure without losing an ounce of composure in any circumstance-Sasuke was unsure how he ought to react, and his body was telling him flight was an incredibly appealing option.

"Don't. Not yet." Itachi was suddenly between Sasuke and the door, gently barring the way. Even stressed he was mindful of Sasuke's bandaged shoulder. "I doubt you wish to greet our parents dressed like that."

Sasuke paled. Sure, he was dressed, but jeans and a wrinkled screen printed T-shirt were worse than nudity to the Uchiha patriarch. And there was no way in hell Sasuke was answering the door naked.

As Sasuke dove into his room to change—gingerly, and favoring his shoulder, regretting not using the sling—Itachi kicked the couch to rouse Kakashi, who had somehow managed to fall back asleep in the intervening instant.

"What?" Kakashi grumbled, suddenly as grouchy as Itachi.

"My parents are here."

"Oh. Shit." Kakashi was instantly alert again.

"Yeah. Pretty much." Itachi agreed. He gathered the clothes strewn across the floor and vanished into his room.

Three knocks marked the time of his absence, each more insistent than the last. Of course, An Uchiha wouldn't debase himself by shouting, so the force of the knocks was the only indication of ire from the hall.

When Itachi reappeared his hair was combed and tied back neatly and he was in the process of knotting an elegant royal purple tie. The buttons of the immaculately pressed lavender shirt lined up perfectly, an admirable feat to accomplish quickly before caffeination. A shirt, a muted green button-down, hung from a hanger on his wrist, and he tossed the garment at Kakashi and gestured to the kitchen. One more moment was lost to tucking in his shirt tails while scanning the living room. The offending blanket was tossed into his room, the door closed, and Itachi finally deemed the area prepared for his parents.

Squaring his shoulders, he opened the door.

"Father, Mother, so sorry to keep you waiting. Please, come in." Itachi surprised his father in mid-knock, almost getting struck in the face for his troubles. Despite that and his grogginess, Itachi's voice and gestures were all suave and sophistication.

_Want COFFEE!_ A small voice in the back of his mind shouted, deceptively loud from a comatose repose. Itachi couldn't help but agree with that part of his mind. Coffee would be nice.

Lots of coffee.

"We heard voices," Fugaku was saying when Itachi tuned back into the conversation. "Who is here?" Immediate suspicion. Trust Fugaku to go straight to the point, while Mikoto lost herself in studying the pictures on the walls. Clearly he couldn't expect any help in tactfully changing the subject from his mother.

Make that gallons of coffee.

"Jiraya's grandson is staying with us while Jiraya is hospitalized. And Hatake Kakashi is here." Itachi answered, meeting Fugaku's glare levelly. He was too old to let his father intimidate him with a glance. The man would at least have to open his mouth.

Sasuke chose that moment to appear, wearing a heavy knit sweater despite the mild spring weather. Itachi resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow and smirk. It wasn't hard to guess when Sasuke last did his laundry.

"And these friends spent the night?" Fugaku ramped up the intensity of the glare, but Itachi refused to fold. There was a reason why Poker Night was an alien concept to the Uchihas.

"On the couch." Kakashi pressed a mug of coffee into Itachi's hands as he answered, flashing papa Uchiha his best "I really am not the kind of person you can hate" look.

"You are a god," Itachi mouthed

"Would either of you like some? There's a fresh pot in the kitchen."

"No, thank you." Mikoto smiled. "Fugaku is trying to cut back."

"If he drinks it anything like Itachi, that is probably wise." Kakashi's eyes laughed. "I swear he would just take it intravenously if he could."

"And then Fuga-kun complains he can't sleep. So the doctor said no coffee. But its sweet of you to offer."

"Of course. We also have...um…" Kakashi faltered.

"Milk, tea, juice. Some of those sports drinks Sasuke likes. Water." Itachi supplied.

"I'll take tea, if you're offering." Mikoto smiled.

"'Those sports drinks Sasuke likes?'" Sasuke was less than thrilled with the tone Itachi used to describe his beverage of choice. He was ignored. Blatantly.

"I need more coffee." Itachi announced, dragging Kakashi into the kitchen with him. "Excuse us," Kakashi said, still smiling.

"You choose now, of all times in your life, to suddenly become domestic? The hell, Kakashi?" Itachi hissed, glaring as he poured himself another cup of coffee. Kakashi made the best coffee. Itachi had tried a thousand different blends, machines, brewing techniques, additives, and baristas, and had never discovered the secret to his success. Then the man comes to his house, takes his tolerably good coffee and turns it into the same heavenly brew. It was hard to stay angry while drinking it.

"You don't seem to be complaining…" Kakashi smiled, eyes crinkling into crescents. "But if you don't want me to be domestic," Kakashi reached for Itachi's mug.

"No. I just don't want you to be so friendly with my parents. It might give them the wrong idea."

"And the wrong idea would be?"

"That we are more than acquaintances. More than friends."

"But we are more than…they don't _know?_"

"They know, but there's never been a face, or a name, or even any evidence of a relationship. The theory was difficult enough for them to accept, I never told them about Paris."

"And Sasuke?"

"Was clueless, until this morning."

"I think he took it quite well."

"It takes him time to sort out his feelings. We won't get his reaction until later tonight or tomorrow."

"So what you're saying is that I shouldn't do anything romantic, or remotely sexual."

"Yes. That would be the general idea."

"Right then." Kakashi walked past Itachi, giving the Uchiha's ass a firm squeeze and earning a startled yelp. "Now that I've got that out of my system, shall we?"

Without waiting for Itachi, Kakashi returned to the living room. Fugaku and Mikoto pulled apart, their whispered conversation ended abruptly.

"Sorry, if you need a moment I can go back…::" Kakashi jerked a thumb at the kitchen.

"No, that's quite all right. Right, Fugaku?"

"Quite. So, Hatake, how do you know my sons?"

"I met Sasuke-kun at Icha Icha, of course. We've worked together on all of his shoots so far. And Itachi-san and I met in Paris, in a café over breakfast. His hotel lost his reservations, and since I had a loft there at the time, I offered him my couch."

"A complete stranger? How trusting."

"It was Paris. That's just how things are done. And besides, Itachi seemed nice enough. It doesn't hurt that I have a black belt." Kakashi smiled. "If he would have been up to villainous activities, I could have taken care of myself."

"Oh, in what discipline? My Ita-kun took martial arts as a child, too. He has a black belt, though you'd never guess it by looking at him. It was so cute when he would throw the bigger boys to the mats. I wonder if I have any pictures…" Mikoto gushed, whipping out her phone and searching through her online photo album.

"If you do, I would love to see them. I'm a free-lance photographer by trade. Icha Icha is my steady paycheck, but my side work is what really pays the bills. I absolutely love seeing candid shots; they're such great inspiration in my work."

"Ah! Here they are! See? Isn't he absolutely adorable?" Mikoto enlarged the picture so it filled the entire phone screen. A pre-teen Itachi, in a black uniform, belted in black, was in the process of flipping an opponent over his shoulder. Mikoto caught the moment the instant before Itachi's face was covered, and there was a look of such intense concentration in Itachi's eyes it sent shivers down Kakashi's spine.

"I can't say I've ever seen anyone look quite so…intent." Kakashi said softly, studying the picture seriously. "This kind of passion, of emotion, just can't be faked. It's a beautiful photograph, Uchiha-san."

"Mikoto, please, Kakashi-san.

"Mikoto-san." Kakashi smiled. "Apologies, I seem to have gotten off topic. But yes, I met Itachi in Paris, and Sasuke here."

"And that was it? That one night? Until coming here, you never saw each other again? My what a small world it must be." Fugaku layered sarcasm into his voice, shooting Itachi yet another death glare. The implication was clear. _I can't believe a son of mine had a one night stand._ Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and drained his second cup of coffee.

"I'll be right back." Itachi excused himself to the kitchen again, contemplating the many ways he could kill himself with his appliances. Microwaving was definitely out. As was the toaster.

"Well, he stayed a few nights. I asked him to model for some of my pictures. He agreed. They're some of my best work, and I still sell several prints a week. Your son, well both of them actually, are beautiful."

"Why if that isn't the biggest load—"

"Fugaku. We discussed this. And agreed. Not here." Mikoto looked pointedly at Sasuke.

"If you mean 'not discussing that Itachi's gay' I kind of already know that." Sasuke deadpanned as Itachi returned with a full cup of coffee.

Both Uchiha parents turned to look at him, absolutely mortified. Itachi tried to pretend he hadn't heard and slip back into the kitchen, but Fugaku grabbed his shoulder.

"We agreed you would not discuss this with Sasuke, Itachi."

"We did not_ discuss_ anything about my sexuality, Father."

"He didn't-" Mitkoto's eyes widened and she pressed her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Nor did he witness anything untoward."

"Then how, Itachi, does he know, if you've been so careful."

"I—" Itachi looked down, at a loss for words.

"I kissed him." Kakashi said.

Four pairs of jet black eyes stared at him with varying degrees of astonishment and murderous intent.

"You…kissed him?" Fugaku sounded disgusted by the mere idea that such a thing might occur.

"Among other things, yes. I meant it when I said your sons are beautiful, but Itachi…I lov—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Fugaku roared. Kakashi held his ground.

"Fugaku! We discussed this!" Mikoto pressed her hand on his shoulder, trying to force him to sit on the couch and calm down. He brushed her off as if she was completely inconsequential.

"When it was an idea! A phase! When there were no actual people involved."

"I'm glad you don't consider me a person, Father." Itachi deadpanned, ignored.

"So you were okay with it his decision only when he was 'just going through a phase', not with him actually loving another man?" Mikoto frowned.

"It's not love, its lust!" Fugaku shouted.

"If I may interject," Itachi started, and was ignored again. Sighing, he looked around the room for something to distract them.

Bingo.

Itachi dug through Kakashi's photography bag while the other continued to argue, and retrieved the oversized flash bulb. Plugged it in. Turned it on. Waited for the whining to reach super-audible levels. Hoisted the bulb over his shoulder, turned around, and pressed the button.

A blinding white light filled the room, and everyone fell silent, trying to reorient themselves in the suddenly too bright world as spots danced before their eyes.

"Father, Mother,:" Itachi began. "Perhaps now is not the best time to discuss this. As you can see, Sasuke is recovering from the surgery well. He is, in fact, well enough that we can go to dinner this evening. I have already made reservations, and will send you the information. Please, enjoy the day in the city. I will see you both tonight.' Itachi guided his dazed parents out of his apartment, and bolted the door firmly behind them.

"Hatake Kakashi." The glare was evident in Itachi's voice, though his back was still to the room.

Kakashi froze, unsure what he should do. Sasuke smirked, happy to see the torturous photographer squirming.

Itachi spun on his heel, crossed the distance between them, and buried his face in Kakashi's shoulder, shaking.

It was Sasuke's turn to squirm. Itachi frantic and crying—both emotions his brother never expressed—in one day was more than he could take.

Meanwhile Kakashi folded Itachi into a hug, rubbing his back slowly, comfortingly.

"I'm sorry, Ita-kun. I had no idea he would be so…forceful…I didn't mean for you to get hurt…" Kakashi stopped as Itachi's trembling worsened.

"Shh, shh," Kakashi just held Itachi, unable to find the proper words to say.

"What's going on?" Naruto's sunny voice broke the tension in the room as everyone stared at him. Itachi wiped his eyes discreetly and forced a smile.

"Look who finally decided to join us. How do you feel this morning, Naruto?" Itachi's smile broadened, and from his perch on the couch, Sasuke wondered how many times Itachi used that mask, the realistic smile forced over another emotion.

"Well, I was trying to sleep, but there was shouting, so I figured I'd come see what was wrong." Naruto looked from Itachi's slightly reddened eyes to the damp spot on Kakashi's shoulder, to the mortified expression frozen on Sasuke's face, and failed to draw any meaningful conclusions.

"If you thought that was loud," Kakashi smirked, "you should have heard Ita-kun when I took him in my kitchen. Now that was _loud_."

Itachi paled.

"Wait a minute," Naruto said, scratching the back of his head and glancing between Itachi and Kakashi, "Itachi-san bottoms?"

Kakashi burst out laughing and Itachi blushed faintly.

"What? Bottoms? What the hell does that mean?" Sasuke asked, his naïveté showing.

Naruto whispered and Sasuke's face went paler than Itachi's.

"You let him do what!" Sasuke yelped, eyes wide.

"Well to be precise—" Kakashi began.

"Sasuke, go buy Naruto breakfast. Now." Itachi handed Sasuke his wallet and half threw the younger boys out of the apartment.

"Good, we're finally _alone_," Kakashi purred.

"I didn't want my brother to see this." Itachi smirked malevolently.

Kakashi felt all the blood in his body rush south in anticipation, and was momentarily distracted. So much so, in fact, that he didn't see Itachi's right hook until it was too late.

XxXxXxXxX

Breakfast—well, lunch really since it was nearly noon—with Naruto was strangely pleasant. Sasuke half expected to argue with the dobe the entire time, or watch Naruto gorge himself on one of everything the menu offered, and was surprised when neither happened.

The diner was a classic big city small business, complete with oversized black and white checkered floor and off-colored Formica table tops rimmed in an aluminum alloy that showed its age in the millions of scratches darting across the surface. To contrast, the booths were a bright red faux leather polymer that managed to be sticky no matter how "clean" it was. Not really the kind of place the heir to a corporate empire would choose to dine, Sasuke had never been to that particular "dive," though it was only a block from his apartment. While they were walking, Naruto had seen the place, insisted he'd been there with Jiraya on more than one occasion, and cajoled Sasuke into dining there. With more than a little trepidation, Sasuke agreed, certain they would both be back in the hospital by dinner time with food poisoning.

They arrived just in time for the lunch specials, so Sasuke found himself munching on a Panini and soup while Naruto had a ridiculously large salad, which occupied a plate twice the size of the blond's head. Instead of a small cup of dressing, the waitress had provided the entire bottle, and Naruto wasn't shy about using it. Despite the alleged health benefits of greens, Sasuke doubted that there was any nutritional benefit to the heap of cheese, grilled chicken, assorted vegetables, bacon bits, and French dressing, lightly garnished with a few unfortunate looking leaves of iceberg lettuce.

"I never took you for a salad person." Sasuke commented, dipping a corner of his sandwich in his soup and taking a bite. To his surprise, it was good. The bread was crisp, the ham warm, the cheese melted perfectly, and the Tomato Florentine soup was piping hot.

"After all that mushy hospital food, I've been craving something crunchy." Naruto shrugged and stabbed a leaf with a little more force than necessary, sending drops of bright red dressing flying.

"Easy, dobe. I think it's dead already." Sasuke teased, taking another bite of the sandwich. Itachi was trying this, whether he wanted to or not.

"Teme." Naruto glared, sighed, and let his fork drop to the table top. "I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you, and I shouldn't be taking it out on you."

"It's fine, dobe. I'd be worried if you weren't fighting with me."

"You'd be…" Naruto got a strange look on his face. Sasuke almost panicked.

"Worried? Dobe, of course I'd worry about you. We're friends, and that's what friends do."

"Oh. I didn't know you felt that way about me." Naruto said softly, glancing down at his salad. "That we're friends, I mean." He corrected quickly, blushing slightly. _Damn, I almost blew that one, _Naruto thought.

"Well, you're still a dobe, but you're really the only one my age I talk to. So I guess that makes us friends." Sasuke shrugged, feeling awkward discussing his feelings in a diner. Especially since he didn't know exactly what those feelings were to quantify them. Though, from the look on his face, Naruto didn't know what to think either, which was a small comfort.

"Yeah, I suppose that would do it. But I'm glad. That we're friends." Naruto smiled that dopey dobe smile of his and returned to his salad with renewed gusto.

"So what's eating you? Something has to be, for you to beat on the poor…salad like that." Sasuke asked.

"I'm just worried about the old perv." It took Sasuke a moment to realize Naruto was talking about Jiraya, and by that time Naruto was well into his next sentence. "…you know? Sometimes you can just tell that something's wrong, and, well, you don't know what to do about it, 'cause no one will tell you anything." Naruto's fist clenched on the table.

"Jiraya can take care of himself, Naruto. He's strong. And he wouldn't leave you alone. That's just not his style."

"Yeah. You're right, I guess, but I'm not going to rest easy 'til I'm back at my own house and he's home. Speaking of which, why did Itachi seem so eager to have me stay over? I mean, I'm grateful and all-if I was at home I probably would curl up on my couch and eat ramen 'til I exploded-but it's kinda weird, since you and I have been fighting a lot." Naruto twirled some shredded cheese around with his fork, coating it liberally with dressing before finally eating it.

Sasuke shrugged, chewing thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure. Itachi," Sasuke swallowed, "Is just Itachi. He does so much negotiating and manipulating at work that I think he sometimes forgets that he can't be in charge of every detail of the rest of the world. He's probably up to something but I gave trying to figure him out years ago."

"I believe that. He scares me." Naruto shuddered.

Sasuke paused in mid-dunk and laughed.

"Hey, teme, don't make fun of me because your brother's a creeper."

"No, it's not that, it's just that some of his employees have that same look on their face when they talk to him, or about him. Sometimes you can even tell when they're thinking about him. I was laughing because for a moment, you looked just like Itachi's secretary, Deidara."

"Your brother has a secretary? Sheesh, someone's important. I bet she's a heart breaker. Knowing Itachi, his entire staff is only beautiful people."

"Actually, Deidara's a guy. But he looks like a girl, so I suppose. But Itachi has a whole team that does his secretary work. They're officially "vice presidents" in charge of different divisions, but, they basically are his bitches."

"Eww…mental image not needed." Naruto shook his head, trying to erase the sudden visual of Itachi having an office orgy with a bunch of beautiful guy and guys-who-look-like-girls-but-aren't-transvestites.

"What?" Sasuke arched an eyebrow in confusion. Naruto made a lewd hand gesture, and Sasuke blushed. "No. No, definitely not in that way. Father would murder him if he was involved with anyone at work, female or otherwise."

"Speaking of which, the hell? Itachi's gay? When did that happen?" Naruto asked.

"No idea. I just found out this morning."

"You live with the guy and didn't notice when his one night stands were with guys?"

"He doesn't bring people home. Hell, he doesn't even go to their place. He goes to work, comes home, occasionally we go to dinner or to a movie or something when he thinks I've been sitting around to much."

"That's it? What about groceries? Clothes? Don't you have to go shopping?"

"Not really. Itachi has our groceries delivered. He gets his coffee shipped to his office weekly, from god knows where, and if anyone needs new clothes, he drags me along to see a tailor." Sasuke shrugged, as if it was strange that Naruto didn't know that Uchihas didn't shop.

"So, basically he's never alone."

"Yeah."

"Well, that's awkward. No wonder he's so evil, if he's not getting any."

"He doesn't need-no one _needs _ to get anything to be happy. It's like a bonus. You know, all that shit about a relationship creating something greater than the sum of its parts."

"Says the twenty year old virgin."

Sasuke almost spit out his soup.

"Okay, talking about my brother's sex life was awkward enough. We are _not_ discussing mine. No way in hell."

"Which would be fine. If you had a sex life for us to not discuss."

"I'm getting the check. Eat your salad."

"Sure, sure. Avoiding the subject. Or lack thereof. " Naruto had the nagging feeling that he'd been on the other side of a conversation just like this at some point, but ignored the flash of guilt. Watching Sasuke squirm was freaking hilarious.

"Like yours is any better. I've seen you with your friends, Naruto. And unless one of them suddenly decided to start batting for the other team, you aren't getting any more than I am."

"Touché."

Naruto couldn't help but stare at Sasuke's ass as the Uchiha went to get the bill. Sure, it was a bit odd, to ogle a friend, but in those pants, Naruto couldn't help himself. Damn, Sasuke was hot. And the teme didn't even realize it.

"Hey, Naruto, you still there?" Sasuke's hand was suddenly waving in front of Naruto's face.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine…" Naruto gulped, thinking about other fine things again.

"You were completely spaced out. You sure you're okay?" The concern in Sasuke's eyes was doing funny things to the pit of Naruto's stomach.

"Yep. Just give me a minute to finish my lunch, and we can go, okay?" Naruto dug into his salad, and Sasuke finally got the all-out display of gorging he'd been expecting. He ate the last of the crackers provided with his soup while he waited, more for something to do than because he was hungry.

When Naruto finally finished, Sasuke was surprised to see the plate was still there. At the blond's rate of consumption, he expected the plate to be a casualty, collateral damage. Still, after pigging out in every sense of the phrase, Naruto sat back, dabbed his face with his napkin like a gentleman, and let out the loudest belch Sasuke had ever heard.

Blushing, embarrassed at being caught with such an obnoxious dobe, Sasuke got up and walked away. The dobe could find his own way back, before the entire world knew that Sasuke Uchiha had sunk to such a low.

"Oy! Sasuke! Wait up!" And so the world knew. Sasuke experienced the brief longing for death commonly associated with utter humiliation, then stopped and waited for the dobe.

"Where are you off to now, in such a hurry?" Naruto asked, his spirit irrepressible. The evil part of Sasuke's mind longed to remind the blonde that his grandfather was in the hospital, possibly dying, just to shut him up. Fortunately, the greater part of Sasuke envied Naruto's ability to simply cordon off the grief and keep moving forward with life.

"Home. If there's anything left," he added darkly.

"Anything left?"

"We left Itachi home, pissed as hell with Kakashi. Alone. If the police aren't there investigating a homicide, you will be able to tell your grandchildren about how you witnessed a true miracle."

"So you do have a sense of humor." Naruto was suddenly serious, studying Sasuke as one might inspect a renaissance painting that suddenly started singing. Curiosity mixed with intrigue, topped off with a bit of genuine shock.

"Everyone makes jokes, dobe."

"Not you. Today's the first time I've seen you smile, actually smile. Not that fake bit you do for the cameras when we're on set."

"How do you know it isn't fake now? I am trying to cheer you up. Doctor's orders."

"This one reaches your eyes."

"And you're looking at my eyes so closely because?"

"I-I wasn't looking at your eyes! Arrogant teme!"

XxXxXxX

Sasuke unlocked the apartment door tentatively, anxiety gnawing at the pit of his stomach. So far, no flashing lights, unmarked vans, or large groups of people in flak jackets had made an appearance, and Sasuke was beginning to worry that they'd already come and gone. The sound of coffee brewing assuaged some of his fears, but then, Itachi would probably start a pot so it would be ready by the time he got back from prison, confident that he would spend no more than ten minutes on the affair. Some of his tension was from actual fear, the rest was from creeping down the halls secret agent style with Naruto on his heels. In the middle of a James bond roll past an open door, Naruto had slammed into him, sending them both into the wall and wrenching Sasuke's injured shoulder painfully. Annoyance and pain are the perfect recipe for tension.

"Itachi?" Sasuke called.

"In the kitchen, Sasuke. How was…lunch, I suppose, with Naruto?" Sauske almost bolted right then, would have, if Naruto hadn't been behind him. Itachi sounded entirely too calm, and Sasuke didn't want to be the one to find the body.

Rounding the corner, he saw Itachi perched on a stool, coffee cup in hand, and Kakashi slumped across the island from him, a large bag of ice pressed against one eye.

"Yo," Kakashi gave a small wave and returned to looking miserable in silence.

"It took you quite some time to get here from the front door, Sasuke." Itachi made it sound like an innocent statement, but Sasuke heard the implication.

"I didn't want to clean up the body." Sasuke settled on a stool a neutral distance from both Kakashi and Itachi. Shift a millimeter either way and they'd think he was taking sides in their little war, and he couldn't call Switzerland without acknowledging the subtle war.

"Body? What happened to Kakashi's face?" Naruto was charmingly oblivious.

"Itachi," Kakashi deadpanned. He shifted the ice slightly so he could take a sip of his coffee, grimacing at the taste. "Why you drink this sludge is beyond me."

"My house, my coffee. Waste it and die." Itachi took another peaceful sip, shooting Kakashi a smug glare over the rim of the mug.

Kakashi took a long draught, draining his mug completely. Slamming it down on the counter he let out a long sigh.

"So dramatic." Itachi shook his head. "You never answered my question, Sasuke."

"Lunch was fine. I had a sandwich. Naruto had a salad." Sasuke pointedly ignored the arch of Itachi's eyebrow at the idea of Naruto eating a salad and continued. "No one died, no one got hurt, and that's more than I can say for you two." Sasuke returned the arched eyebrow, but his mastery fell short of Itachi's and only earned a smirk in return.

"And." Itachi refilled his cup of coffee so he could continue the menacing looks over its rim. Deep down he enjoyed watching Kakashi squirm.

"And nothing. Sandwich, salad, walk there, walk home, not necessarily in that order." Sasuke walked two fingers across his palm to emphasize the point.

"Hmm. If you did not wish to speak of it, you merely needed to say so. No need to get so defensive, Sasuke-kun." Itachi cradled his mug between his palms, studying the surface of his coffee intently for a moment.

"Tonight, I have made arrangements for us to dine with Sasuke and my parents. They expect that all of us will be in attendance, and I feel it prudent to set some expectations, ground rules, as it might be, to prevent any recurrences of this morning's…issues." Itachi swirled the coffee slowly, the foam on the surface slowly forming a little vortex. In a moment of poetic weakness, Itachi noted how aptly that little swirl of extracted caffeine described his life.

"Does this mean I have to wear a suit?" Kakashi grumbled.

"Yes. Everyone has to wear a suit." Itachi's pointed glare at Naruto left no room for argument regarding the definition of suit as "a tailored garment consisting of pants, a shirt, a jacket, a tie, and often a vest, though the latter is not necessarily a requirement."

"Where?" Sasuke studied Itachi over his folded hands, trying to look intimidating, or at least, not as intimidated as he felt.

"Kaze no Hana. I do not believe it is necessary to emphasize that this is a black tie affair, but, so there is no misunderstanding, _black tie dress is not optional._" Itachi said.

"What if I don't own a black tie?"

"One will be provided for you, Naruto-kun. I'm sure we have something on hand for you."

"Why would you have—wait, why do I have to go? It's not like I'm fond of teme here, and frankly, you scare me. Why would I meet the beings who spawned you? Its like asking for trouble." Naruto was suddenly very opposed to the idea of dinner. Who said he wanted to spend more time with the stupid teme anyway? Especially with Jiraya in the hospital, needing him. "Yeah, while you go to dinner, I'll go sit with Jiraya. What if he wakes up while I'm out at dinner? And then he'll be confused, and hurt that I'm not there, and, and…"

"Just shut up now, Naruto. Really, you don't stand a chance of winning this argument. Not against _him_." Kakashi slumped even farther in his chair. "Believe me."

"Naruto. I realize this is a difficult time for you, but sitting in the hospital will not make Jiraya get better. And, even if it did, what would he say if he woke up and saw you like this? Have you even looked at yourself today?" Itachi's tone was the kindest Sasuke had ever heard him use. There was no denying the tiny pang of jealousy, but it was overwhelmed by the sympathy for Naruto's position.

"But-But he _needs_ me there…" Naruto looked like a kicked puppy, his blue eyes suddenly enormous, filled with brimming tears.

"Naruto…" Sasuke began.

"Itachi has a point, Naruto." Kakashi interrupted in such a typical Kakashi way that no one noticed—besides Sasuke—that he had even been rude. "And the Uchiha's are important business acquaintances. If he was awake, Jiraya would jump all over the chance to make new friends of their caliber. He would want you to go."

Naruto gave this a moment of thought before nodding.

"But I'm taking my phone. So the hospital can reach me when he wakes up."

"Of course." Itachi agreed and stood. "Now, Sasuke, go find Naruto one of your suits. I think the gray one will suit him."

With a martyred look, Sasuke beckoned for the dobe to follow him from the kitchen. Once they were gone, Kakashi set the half melted ice on the table and stared at Itachi skeptically.

"'The gray suit will suit him'? Really? Really, Itachi? What the hell?"

"Even I can make a pun on occasion."

"Yeah, and hell has a Zamboni."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sasuke gestured for Naruto to sit on his bed while he rummaged through his wardrobe for the suit Itachi had in mind.

"I don't even know if I brought that one with me. It doesn't fit right, and I never had time to have it tailored." Sasuke explained above the clink of colliding hangers. "We weren't really planning to stay here right away, so I only brought clothes for an extended trip. Itachi surprised me, buying this apartment and not going home."

"How were you going to model if you didn't stay here?" Naruto shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable in Sasuke's personal space. Not that the room was particularly personal. Dark gray, almost black comforter, blue-gray rug. Tan carpet. White walls. A desk. An immaculate, pristine, almost assuredly unused desk. No books, no music paraphernalia, no pictures, no posters, not even one of the ubiquitous Uchiha fans that seemed to appear everywhere else in the house. It looked like a hotel room.

"There's a studio near my home. And then I'd just send the pictures over. That was _my_ plan. Itachi apparently prefers I stay here. Here it is." Sasuke pulled the suit from his closet and held it up in Naruto's direction. "Itachi was right. Bastard. You would look good in this one. Here." Sasuke proffered the garment and Naruto took it reluctantly.

"Thanks." He said, his fingers brushing Sasukes as he gripped the hanger. Sasuek recoiled a little too quickly for politeness.

"Sasuke, do…do you remember what we were talking about that day? Before we…before the accident?" Naruto wouldn't meet Sasuke's eyes.

"Dobe…yeah. I remember."

"Well, I've been thinking about it a lot, and, well, I don't think it came out quite right"

Sasuke quirked an eyebrow and waited.

"You see, thinking back on it, I kinda sounded like I was, um, _confessing_, uh, something, but I mostly just wanted to tell you that, well, that I want to be friends. And not beat the crap out of each other every time we have a shoot together. And I think it sounded like I meant something else." Naruto blushed. "I'm sorry, I suck at the whole talking about feelings thing, and…"

"Naruto. Stop talking." Sasuke commanded.

Naruto froze.

"You don't need to apologize. I knew what you meant. It's fine. Stop dwelling on it. The only reason you're even thinking about it is because it was so close to the accident, and you're trying not to think about that. Just focus on now, and on taking better care of yourself so Jiraya doesn't kick my ass when he wakes up."

"Why would he—"

"Because you look like you have two black eyes. And Uchihas always get revenge."

"Oh. Then why haven't you?" Naruto cocked his head slightly.

"Dinner with my parents, and Itachi, and Kakashi, is more than sufficient revenge, I think."

"Teme."

"Dobe."

"Good to see you're both getting along so well." Itachi leaned against the door frame, arms folded over his chest. There was a department store bag at his feet. An ill portent if ever there was one.

"What do you want?" Sasuke matched Itachi glare for glare.

"I sent for a shirt for Naruto. I see you found the suit. I expect both of you to be ready for dinner by five. I have to head to the office, Sasuke. If I come home to yellow tape I shall be very displeased." The way the last word was inflected sent shivers down Naruto's spine. Yeah, the elder Uchiha was very, very scary.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

As the hour drew nigh, Sasuke felt increasingly certain something bad was going to happen. Kakashi had vanished sometime before Itachi left for work and had yet to reappear. Naruto hadn't been able to get the suit out of the garment bag, unable to find the cleverly hidden zipper with the bright red pull amidst all the clear plastic. Sasuke himself couldn't find his left shoe, and if he arrived at dinner in anything less than dress black shoes, it would be the end of his life. And Itachi wasn't home yet.

The clock proclaimed only one minute remained before the appointed hour.

For a moment, Sasuke felt like Cinderella, waiting for the clock the strike midnight and the world to fall apart.

The clock struck five. Sasuke closed his eyes.

The front door opened. Sasuke flinched.

The world didn't end. Sasuke sighed.

He opened his eyes to see Itachi and Kakashi stroll in, both wearing dark suits. Itachi's was black with a brilliant red shirt and striking black tie, pinned of course with the Uchiha fan. Kakashi wore charcoal with a forest green, his hair somewhat styled, and his black eye mysteriously vanished.

"Good, you're both ready." Itachi appraised his brother and his brother's _companion_ for a moment, as if assuring himself there were no flaws he'd just miraculously missed at first glance. Finding none, he continued.

"Kakashi has graciously offered to drive us over. We'll be taking his car." Without further instruction, Itachi led the way from the apartment, Kakashi on his heels.

The drive to the restaurant was characterized by long periods of intense silence, during which Itachi attempted to communicate his will to Kakashi telepathically and Naruto and Sasuke studiously avoided acknowledging each other's existence. Things had not improved since their conversation in Sasuke's room, and Naruto felt extremely awkward even sitting next to the littlest Uchiha. He regretted every one of the words he'd said at the park. Every last one.

The filed into the restaurant with all the enthusiasm of men paraded before a firing squad. The Maître D' informed them that Uchiha; party of six was to occupy one of the larger tables in a private room at the back of the establishment, and that the first members of the party had already arrived, and were seated.

Itachi swore on the inside and flashed a smile at the man. As they followed him through the maze of table, Itachi pulled Kakashi back for a moment.

"Fuck this up and you'd better learn to sleep with one eye open because there is _nowhere_ I won't find you to get my revenge." Itachi hissed in Kakashi's ear. Kakashi responded by grabbing Itachi's chin and stealing a quick, chaste, kiss.

"Don't give me so many _ideas,_ Ita-kun. " Kakashi pulled away and hurried to catch up with the boys before the delay became suspicious, leaving Itachi to arrive last, alone, and mumbling some excuse about having a question for the chef.

"I'm so happy to see both my boys again," Mikoto said, smiling at everyone. Fugaku scowled at no one in particular. "And I'm so happy that you're doing better, Sasuke. We were worried." Her smile was broad enough that her eyes seemed to turn into little crescents, and the sheer joy radiating from her was palpable.

Itachi's pager beeped.

Instantly the happy demeanor was gone. The dinner rolls were unceremoniously dumped from their basket and Mikoto thrust the suddenly vacant wicker container in Itachi's direction.

"You _know_ how I feel about electronics at the dinner table, Itachi." Kakashi suddenly wondered if, perhaps, the patented Uchiha death glare was a trait gleaned from their mother.

"I'm sorry. I came from work, and must have forgotten to turn it off." Itachi fished the offending object from one of the many pockets of his jacket and dropped it into the basket.

"Cell phone too. Might as well get it out of the way now."

Itachi fished in a different pocket, produced the device, and dropped it in next to his pager.

"All of you, now hand them over. All of them." She glared at her husband and Itachi.

Everyone produced and deposited a phone in the basket.

"Mrs. Uchiha? I don't mind putting it in the basket, but may I leave my phone on?" Naruto asked hesitating over the stack of dead looking electronics. Between the two of them, Itachi and his father there were seven cell phones (three for Fugaku, four for Itachi), six pagers (three apiece), three PDA's (one Fugaku, two Itachi), a mini tablet (Itachi), an MP3 player with internet access (Itachi), and a track phone (Fugaku's, for when he couldn't work that blasted cell phones.). On top of all that, Sauske's phone looked like the mangy stray dog with its scuffed case and the crack in the screen from when he fell on it during their first photo shoot. Naruto felt a little bad about that.

"Why do you think you need a phone during dinner?" Mikoto glowered, and the other three men braced themselves for an explosion of nuclear proportions. The no electronics policy was non negotiable.

"This is the number I gave the hospital to call if anything changes with Jiraya. I want to be there when he wakes up."

Mikoto melted.

"Oh, of _course_, Naruto-kun! I should have thought about that, should have _known_ that would be the case. Yes, we'll keep that on so if the hospital calls we can get you to Jiraya in an instant. Don't worry dear."

If Naruto hadn't been so busy returning Mikoto's smile, he would have seen the slack jawed awe on the others' faces and laughed himself to death.

After that, the conversation revolved around the mundane. Itachi contemplated using his dessert spoon to gouge out his eyeballs as his mother an Naruto spent fifteen minutes discussing the weather, leaving Fugaku free to glower at the close proximity of Itachi and Kakashi across the table from him. Sasuke regretted being seated between his father and brother, opposite his dobe. It was almost painfully boring.

When the main course arrived-Itachi had arranged the dinner in such a way that no one got to so much as glimpse a menu, or prices—the conversation turned to the exquisite cuisine, and how it was like something Mikoto had tried on her honey moon in Paris. The mere mention of the city ramped up the intensity of Fugaku's glare.

Itachi wondered if his melon spoon might be a better gouging tool. It certainly would fit the shape of his eye better, and was designed for a scooping motion…

Kakashi interrupted his thoughts by tapping his wine glass gently with a spoon.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but there is something special that Itachi and I would like to share with you tonight.

"I know that it seems like I haven't known your son for very long, but, in truth, we spent a great deal of time together during his stay in Paris, and became quite close. After several years, I can honestly say that during that time, I came to love him." Kakashi leveled his gaze at Fugaku, daring him to interrupt, while smoothly avoiding the mortified look slowly spreading across Itachi's face.

"It has been several years since, but, before he left to return home to you, I proposed to him."

The silence at the table was deafening, and Itachi decided the steak knife was the best way to off himself. Yes, sharp and slightly serrated, it would do a wonderful job of slicing through all the muscle and tissue around his heart. Quick and relatively painless compared to eye gouging.

"A lot of time has passed, but my feelings haven't changed. So, I wanted to do this properly, and officially."

Kakashi took a deep breath, slid out of his chair and produced a small black velvet box. He flipped it open to reveal a silver band with a large ruby surrounded by smaller diamonds.

"Uchiha Itachi, I have loved you for as long as I've known you. I have spent time with you, and alone, and the moments with you have been better, beyond any comparison. I want to spend the rest of my moments with you. I want to wake up and see your face first every morning, and fall asleep with it the last thing I see each night.

"Itachi, Ita kun, will you do me the honor of agreeing to marry me again?"

If the early silence was deafening, there was no way to describe it now.

Itachi stared at Kakashi for a long moment, then replied.

"How the hell does this constitute not fucking this dinner up?"

At the same time Fugaku shouted, "Are you fucking proposing to my son?"

Kakashi ignored Fugaku and concentrated on Itachi.

"It's only fucking it up if you don't say yes." He smiled. Itachi felt is heart stop for a moment.

"Well, then I guess I don't have much of a choice now, do I?"

A/N:

Two words: Organic Chemistry.

Semester Finals.

Oral Surgery.

Violent outburst.

Please choose whichever excuse will make you not pelt me with half rotten fruits and or vegetables. I just did my laundry.

In my defense, I offer two points.

This chapter is doubly long.

I wrote a one shot in between postings and shared it. I had to do penance for clobbering a friend in the face with a notebook. It was an accident. I was aiming for the fridge and missed. I have bad aim.

In any case, here it is, nice and shiny and new. And wow. Kakashi proposed. Anybody see that coming? I DID! Hehe. Anyway. I have a final in fifteen minutes, so I'm posting this and running. Please review. I love you all, and in four days I'll be free to write as much as I want! Yay!


	8. Im Die Nacht

Im Die Nacht

_It was dark, and cold when he woke. His shoulders ached, and he realized it was because his arms were tied above his head. He struggled and succeeded only in digging the zip ties around his wrists deeper into the raw flesh. _

"_Ah, the little raven awakens. And how are you, Sasuke-kun? Comfortable?"_

_Sasuke didn't even attempt to answer around the gag. He couldn't see the speaker, but knew the voice was familiar…_

"_Ne, Sasuke-kun, do you know why you're here? No? Well, before we start the fun, I think you should know that this is all Itachi's doing. I want you to think of him during your stay. Can you do that?" A cold hand cupped his chin and tilted his head up._

"_Everything that happens here is all his fault. Just remember that."_

_The hand pulled away, letting Sasuke's head drop. He could hear footsteps receding and thought, hoped, for a moment that was the end of it, that he could have a moment to get his bearings, break the ties restraining him and fight his way to freedom. He strained against the plastic, muscles cording with effort, blood pounding in his ears._

_He didn't see the blow coming, couldn't defend himself against it. The fist drove up under his ribs by way of his solar plexus, and Sasuke used the moment of oxygen deprivation to appreciate the artistry and strength of the hit. _

_Then he was coughing and gasping desperately for breath, wrenching his shoulders as he instinctively curled to absorb the punch._

"_You think I am stupid. Just like Itachi. Well, you will pay for that. You think I don't know you have a black belt? You think I don't know you are clever? That I haven't seen your test scores?" A hand curled around his throat and slammed him back against the wall. "I will not be fooled by you. I am not stupid."_

_The grip tightened, and for the first time Sasuke realized he was going to die. _

_Water poured over his face, over the cloth covering his mouth and nose, and he couldn't breathe, had no air left to keep the water from rushing into his lungs as it burned, burned, burned in his nose. His eyes watered, though whether from tears or overflow he didn't know, didn't care because he couldn't _breathe.

_And he was so tired, he just wanted to let go, wanted away from all of it and they wouldn't even let him rest—_

_Air! They pulled the cloth away and rolled him half on his side so he could vomit the water, cough and gasp and fill his lungs again. They let him lay back for a moment, a span of heartbeats, and two fingers pressed at his jugular, feeling the rapid hammering of his heart._

"_Pulse shows no signs of dropping. Hold off for another minute." Another voice, cold and clinical, as if he wasn't in a basement somewhere torturing a teenager for no reason. Different from the first man, but just as crazy as far as Sasuke was concerned. Which, wasn't very far, since focusing on breathing was taking most of his effort and all his concentration. _

"_Proceed." The fingers withdrew and the cloth was back before he could take a really deep breath. He squirmed, even though he'd long since learned that it was of no use, he could stop the instinctive need to get away, to free himself…_

_There was an acrid smell by his nose, something like ammonia._

"_Ne, Sasuke-kun. You fell asleep on me. That's not allowed. You do not get to escape the suffering. I could not. I should punish you."_

_A cold blade touched his cheek, tracing a line from the corner of his mouth slowly up to his eye._

"_I've heard that your eyes can be incredibly sensitive to pain. I wonder how true that is." The blade pressed closer and Sasuke tried to turn his head, to move away only to have the other hand grab his jaw and hold him in place. Sasuke's eyes widened and rolled to stare at the blade, impossibly close._

"_But I would hate to ruin that beautiful face of yours. You are a supermodel, after all." The knife moved down his neck, then up his arm to his bound hands. "I could take a finger. An ever popular option. Do you want me to take a finger, Sauske-kun?" The hand holding his jaw became a caress, sickeningly tender. The knife pressed against his knuckles, as if deciding which finger to attack._

"_Please no, god, no, please…" Sauske whimpered, closing his eyes and trying to pretend he was somewhere else. Anywhere else. _

"_Then what are you going to do, Sasuke-kun? You have misbehaved, and that cannot go unpunished."_

"_Please, no, no, no, please…" _

"_Well…is this a tear, Sasuke? Are you afraid?" A thumb brushed away the drop as it streaked down Sasuke's face. "I think this will do, since it is your first offense. I don't believe I have ever seen an Uchiha cry before. And you will promise to do better."_

"_Y-yes. I'll do better. I will." Sasuke gasped. Anything to get away._

"_Good, good. Good night, then, Sasuke-kun. Pleasant dreams." He was released and sagged in his bonds. Blood dripped down his arms as the ties reopened the welts on his wrists. It soaked into his shirt, mingling with the water. The fabric was cold and clinging uncomfortably, leeching away his body heat. All he could think about was how close he'd come to losing a finger, an eye. _

"_Sasuke-kun…are you ready for more games?"_

_Sasuke shook his head, not ready, never ready. How long would they keep him here like this before they killed him?_

_One of the hands touched his side and he flinched away as much as his bonds allowed._

"_Ne, Sasuke-kun, I can feel all these ribs. Are you not eating? Are you trying to starve yourself? So defiant still, and after I was so lenient…There shall have to be a stronger punishment this time…" The hand slid down his side to rest on his hip._

"_And I doubt, my little Uchiha, that you will like this."_

"No!" Sasuke sat up, sweating, panting for breath.

"Sasuke? Are you okay?" A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked away.

"Sasuke…" The hurt in Naruto's voice was plain. "You were screaming, and I heard you from out in the living room. I was worried for you…"

"Na-naruto…I..it was…just a dream. A really bad dream." Sasuke wouldn't meet Naruto's eyes. "I'm okay. Sorry I woke you." The lie came so easily. Sasuke hated it.

"Uh, Sasuke, you're really pale, and you're shaking. I'm going to get you some water, and then you can tell me about it, 'k? Gramps says talking about these things makes them better." Naruto said, already halfway to the door.

Sasuke sat in the dark, trying to catch his breath and calm his heartbeat. When Naruto returned from fumbling in the kitchen, Sasuke accepted the water mutely.

"So what was the dream about?" Naruto rubbed Sasuke's back slowly, like Jiraya had done for him so many times.

"I don't want to talk about it, Naruto. It was bad, and I really can't—" Sasuke's breath caught. Naruto hugged him tight, careful not to jar the injured shoulder, and rested his head on Sasuke's shoulder.

"You don't have to, then. I just thought it might help. Think you can sleep?" Naruto asked.

Sasuke stiffened.

"I…I'll stay, until you do… if you want. I mean…not to be creepy or anything, I just…sometimes when I have bad dreams, I don't want to be alone right away."

"Dobe."

"Huh?" Naruto twisted so he could sort of see Sasuke's face.

"Shut up and lay down." Sasuke said, looking away.

"Right." Naruto yawned. "Sleep time."

They both laid down awkwardly on Sasuke's too narrow bed. Sasuke thought he could literally hear the seconds tick by and was just about to ask Naruto if he was feeling just as edgy when he heard the dobe snore.

Of course _he_ fell back asleep immediately. Sasuke sighed and resigned himself to a sleepless night. Then Naruto rolled over, slinging an arm over Sasuke and resting his head on Sasuke's chest.

At first it was weird, and Sasuke tried several methods of escape prior to realizing that Naruto was quite strong, and he was quite out of shape. Damn Itachi for being right. After a few moments though, Naruto's warmth started to leach into him, and the tension flowed out. Maybe it wasn't so bad.

From the doorway, Itachi watched the exchange. He'd heard Sasuke screaming and his big brother instinct hauled him out of a very warm Kakashi cuddle. Naruto, being on the couch, had beat him to the punch, so he waited to see if he would still be needed, silently fuming.

He'd thought Sasuke was past this. It had been months since the last nightmare, and the psychologist thought…well, Itachi didn't really put much stock in that whacko, but still. And there could be no doubt of the cause.

His fists clenched involuntarily.

"Ita, come back to bed." Kakashi whispered, taking Itachi's hand as if to lead him there.

"Sasuke…"

"Will be fine. Naruto's in there with him, and if he wakes again you can go check on him. Watching him sleep is just creepy. Come on."

When Itachi still didn't move, Kakashi crouched, grabbed Itachi and slung him over a shoulder. They struggled quietly for a few moments until Itachi was rudely dropped on his bed, flushed and breathing a little heavily.

"Kakashi.."

"Stop blaming yourself. What happened to him wasn't your fault. You saved him. If not for you…he might not be alive today. He's starting to heal, Itachi. You have to, too."

"I know. And I'm okay, most days, but when he wakes up like this…I can imagine what that sick bastard did to him, you know. From what the doctors told me and what we found there. I can imagine what Sasuke dreams of, and no one should have that. And it's my fault."

"Itachi—"

"It is. They were after me and settled for him. I saw the evidence. He had pictures of us in the café, Kakashi. From the first day we met."

"Well, that's a touch…that's just wrong." Kakashi shuddered, not wanting to think of the possibility of sharing airspace with that monster. "Come here." Kakashi pulled Itachi close, and Itachi curled into him, reclaiming their previous positions. Kakashi drew idle patterns on Itachi's back.

"I'm still mad at you." Itachi mumbled into Kakashi's chest.

"I know. And I'm still thrilled you said yes."

"That was not how I wanted to tell my mother I am engaged."

"I thought she took it quite well, before your Father threw that serving bowl at my head. That one hurt."

"I don't feel bad for you."

"Satan."

"But I'm your Satan."

"True. That you are."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Kakashi made the best coffee. The statement was not up for debate. Itachi tried everything, even hiring several baristas (and subsequently firing them), importing coffee from all over the world at astronomical prices, and over one hundred different grinders and grinding techniques. Nothing was effective.

His current blend was close, like Salisbury steak compared to a New York strip steak, a pale imitation that passed muster only because he was desperate. And, compared to a barista, it was fairly cheap to import it from Africa, as long as he bought in bulk.

Kakashi made it taste like heaven in a cup.

"If you can make any coffee taste like this, I'm going to start buying instant." Itachi grumbled, perched on a stool to stay out of Kakashi's way. He was making crepes. Normally Itachi would offer to help, but his first and only attempt resulted in a sheet of blackened tar. Kakashi, gentleman that he was, said nothing, pressed a cup of coffee into Itachi's hands and guided him to a seat before scraping up the carcass and disposing of it.

"Will you stir the strawberries? They ought to be about done." Kakashi asked as he turned to pour more batter on his pan. Not the best way to make a crepe, but it was the best Itachi had to offer. In a pot next to him, he was making a strawberry sauce for the filling, using some of Itachi's sugar alcohol to sweeten it. Healthier than artificial sweeteners, and not fattening in the least, on a different morning Kakashi would have made a crack about him being so girly. Then he saw the label –"Not available for individual sale" printed right above "Made in Japan" and bit his tongue. Itachi had gone through a lot of trouble to get the stuff.

"I made Sasuke your cake." Itachi said, stirring the berries slowly.

"Did you now? I wish I could have seen his face. The picture I have of yours is priceless."

"He liked it."

"Everyone likes it. Ita hi—"

"It was one of the first real smiles I've seen from him, since then."

"Good. I'm glad I could help. Cake makes everything better."

XxXxXxXxX

Sasuke woke up to someone touching his back. It was too light a touch to be Itachi, the fingertip too calloused. Not to mention Itachi would never initiate physical contact without a good reason. He turned his head, blinking as the sunlight temporarily blinded him. When he could see, a pair of bright blue eyes stared back at him.

"'Morning, Sasuke."

"'Morning…Naruto. Why…are you touching me?"

"Oh…well, you have all these scars, and I was, um, wondering why I never noticed them. Its not like this is the first time I've seen you shirtless."

"Makeup, dobe. They cover them when I model."

"What are they—"

"It's not your concern, Naruto. I don't want to talk about it. "

"Good morning, boys. Breakfast is ready." Kakashi leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, a towel in one hand. "Get it while its hot!"

"Kakashi cooks?" Naruto and Sasuke exchanged a puzzled look.

They emerged from Sasuke's bedroom only to be greeted by the smell of heaven. Itachi was ladling the strawberries over the fresh crepes and Kakashi was dusting them with powdered sugar.

They ate in silence, the Uchihas brooding, Kakashi plotting ways to force Itachi to stop brooding, and Naruto too engrossed in the deliciousness to notice. Itachi stabbed his crepe with a little more force than necessary, the clunk drawing Kakashi's gaze.

"Drink your coffee, Ita," = he said, holding Itachi's gaze.

"I'm beginning to wonder what you're spiking it with that you want me to drink it so badly." Itachi said, complying.

"Clearly I have not put enough in, if you're wondering."

Naruto laughed and almost choked on a strawberry.

The phone rang.

All of them jumped, startled by the sudden burst of sound from the living room.

"My phone!" Naruto was gone in a burst of blond hair and orange pajama pants.

"As if there was any doubt it was his?" Sasuke said before taking another bite. It wasn't like Itachi or Kakashi would have a ring tone of singing frogs, and it sure as hell wasn't his.

They tried not to listen in on the conversation, to give Naruto some privacy, but he was practically shouting into his phone.

"Yes? Okay. Yeah, yeah, mmhm. Right, uh huh. Okay. Sure. Umm…yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there. Yeah. I'm on my way out the door. Okay. Yep, I'll be there. Thanks."

"Everything all right, Naruto-kun?" Kakashi asked when Naruto returned to the kitchen.

"I don't know. That was the hospital. They need me to go there right way. So, I'll catch the bus—"

"Go get dressed. We'll take my car." Itachi was on his feet, putting dirty dishes in the sink, wrapping the leftover crepes and putting them in the fridge, transferring the strawberries to a smaller dish for storage. "All of you. Go. Get. Dressed. By the time you're ready, I'll be done with this. Go." The other three vanished from the kitchen.

Itachi finished tidying up, leaving his dirty dishes for another time, and returned to his room to find Kakashi rummaging through his closet.

"They are sorted alphabetically by label, then by color in spectral order." Itachi said.

"That's neurotic, even for you, you know. And I knew that. I was looking for something less…formal."

"You are not wearing my pajamas in public. I did not bring casual wear. I was not planning on staying for long enough to require it. I recommend green, for you. I'll be wearing this." Itachi selected a dark blue shirt.

"Right. Green it is." Kakashi picked one at random.

Dressed, Itachi returned to the foyer and pulled his keys from the bowl on the table.

"Everyone ready? Let's go."

Itachi's car was made for speed and control; in short, blatant disregard for speed limits and driving etiquette. In morning rush traffic, Itachi made the half hour drive in seven minutes without attracting the attention of any form of law enforcement. Kakashi seemed relaxed in the front seat, but Naruto and Sasuke were white-knuckled in the back, trying not to see how close Itachi cut to the other cars when changing lanes, hoping for a miracle to get them to the hospital alive.

"Death. Trap." Kakashi teased when the parked, seeing the look on the boys' faces.

"Perfectly safe. And we arrived quickly. Naruto, don't wait for us, go on ahead." Itachi said, seeing the anxiety as Naruto shifted from foot to foot.

"Thanks, Uchiha-san:,: Naruto said, then took off running through the parking garage, his pounding footsteps echoing through the empty space.

"I'll meet you up there, Itachi. He should have someone with him. To make sure he doesn't get lost." Sasuke said.

"Kakashi and I will be there shortly." Itachi said, granting permission. Sasuke took off at a slightly more dignified pace, unable to run well with his arm in the sling.

"Do I want to know what that was about?" Kakashi asked, leaning against the car.

"Sasuke is trying to comfort Naruto, should the news be…less than optimal. Far be it from me to stand in the way of his emotional growth."

"I see."

"Besides, making him walk would be torture, and I do not run through hospitals."

"Right. You're leaving them alone because you don't run."

XxXxXxXxX

Sasuke caught up to Naruto at the elevator bank, as the blond searched for a stairwell.

"Naruto. It will be here in a few seconds. Calm down, and we'll get to his room faster." Sasuke said.

"I know, I know, its just…I can't _wait_ that long. I need to know _now._" Naruto was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"We'll be there in less than a minute Naruto."

The elevator took that moment as an opportunity to ping, and open its doors. Sasuke pushed the button, and Naruto continued bouncing.

"Remind me to tell Kakashi to cut back on the sugar at breakfast." Sasuke said dryly.

"Very funny, teme, I just can't wait to see him, you know? I hope he's waking up…but not already awake, cause I want to be there. He's gonna be so happy to see me. I know it. And then I can yell at him for scaring me like that, just like he always yells at me when I get concussions in the ring."

They exited the elevator, and Sasuke had to chase after Naruto and push him in the right direction when the blond took off down the wrong hallway.

Jiraya looked the same as he had when they last left him. Too thin, worn, and peaceful. The hospital gown look ridiculous on him, too small for his broad shoulders, and the sleeves were slit to accommodate the muscles of his arms. If not for the tubes running into his arms, nose, and mouth, he might have been sleeping. The doctor was in the room, checking Jiraya's chart.

"Naruto-kun, you are earlier than I expected. " He said, looking up from the papers. "And you brought Uchiha Sasuke."

"So when is gramps gonna wake up?" Naruto asked.

"Sit down, Naruto. That's why I had the nurse call you. We took your grandfather off of sedatives yesterday morning, and gave him something to help him wake up. We anticipated a response from him no later than yesterday afternoon. He did not wake on his own, so we ran some more tests."

"So he's gonna wake up today?" Naruto's smile was heart breaking. Sasuke grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"I don't think that's what he's trying to say, Naruto. Let him finish." Sasuke said gently.

"We ran some more tests, including a scan for brain activity. I am afraid, Naruto-kun that—"

"No. No, you're wrong. He's not…you're not going to tell me he's…he can't be…Sasuke, tell him he's wrong. Gramps…"

"There were no signs of activity, Naruto. I'm so sorry, son." The doctor said, but Naruto barely heard him.

"Tell him he's wrong Sasuke. Tell him." Tears hung at the corners of Naruto's eyes. Sasuke put an arm around his shoulders, keeping their hands linked. Naruto buried his face in Sasuke's neck and sobbed, tears falling freely and soaking into Sasuke's shirt.

"Doctor, if I might have a word with you?" Itachi beckoned the doctor into the hall, and the poor man took the opportunity to escape. He hated giving this news, and Naruto was taking it especially hard.

"You are certain in your diagnosis?" Itachi asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. The official diagnosis is that Jiraya is in a permanent vegetative state. Nothing we can do will wake him, and without the machines sustaining him, he would already be dead. Once Naruto calms down…"

"Yes. I understand. Please stay close by." Itachi said.

He entered the room and knelt beside Naruto's chair. The blond was sitting on Sasuke's lap, curled in the fetal position, still crying.

"Naruto?" Itachi touched his shoulder gently.

"Go 'way." Naruto sobbed.

"Naruto, come say good bye."

"He's…he's already…dead!" And the sobbing increased.

"No, Naruto, he's not, all the machines are keeping him alive yet. He's hanging on so you can say good-bye. You can tell him, Naruto. He's waiting." Sasuke heard the sorrow in Itachi's voice. Kakashi, who had hung back came forward, lifted Naruto from the chair and set him on his feet.

"Naruto. Deep breath. In, out, there you go."

"He's…he can't…I'm too late to tell him…" Naruto hiccupped.

"No, Naruto. You're going to go sit in that chair, and tell him everything you want him to know. Just the two of you, okay?" Kakashi was firm.

"But he…the doctors said he can't…"

"He can hear you, Naruto," Sasuke said. "I was in a coma, once, and I could still hear the people around me. It's the same. He can hear everything. Just because he can't answer…doesn't mean he can't hear you. So go on, dobe. He's waiting."

Itachi caught Kakashi's eyes and arched an eyebrow at the sudden compassion of his little brother.

Naruto nodded, and sat in the vigil chair, sliding it right up next to the bed.

XxXxXxXxX

Itachi sat in the hallway with Kakashi, drinking crappy hospital coffee. They could hear Naruto talking, but through the walls and closed door they couldn't understand what he was saying.

"I hate hospitals." Itachi sighed, slumping in his chair.

"I think everyone hates them. I don't know anyone who actually likes them."

"The coffee is terrible."

"All hospital food is pretty terrible."

"All this sadness, you'd think they'd have better food. Good food can improve mood."

"Good food is horribly expensive."

"When this is done, I'm donating a million to this place, for the betterment of their food."

"It's okay to be sad, Itachi. He was my friend, too. I understand. "

"You know, he was the biggest reason I picked Icha Icha for Sasuke. Jiraya is one of the most cunning and ruthless businessmen I have ever met. I knew he could keep Sasuke safe."

"Keep Sasuke safe?"

"I know that they arrested that man, that it's over, but, I can't help feeling…"

A loud beep cut him off. Itachi and Kakashi were on their feet in an instant. Doctors hurried into the room with a team of nurses, and a moment later Naruto was in the hallway with them.

Sasuke rounded the corner in time to see everything, and hurried over.

"Itachi, what's—"

"That sound is the heart monitor. It blares like that when…"

"Naruto?" the doctor from earlier stepped out of the room. "Jiraya's heart has stopped. We tried defibrillation, but we couldn't get him back. I'm sorry, Naruto."

**A/N: So, it has been a while. There were some tragedies in my life that kinda mirrored what's been happening to the boys, and…well, I couldn't post the chapter how I had written it originally. In fact, writing this has been…awful. But Jiraya had to go. And I owe it to everyone reading this to finish it out the way it was meant to be. **

**I'm sorry that it took this long to get this to you, and I hope you bear with my less than consistent updating. I will try to get back to a schedule of about a chapter a month, but I can't guarantee that will happen. We'll see. **

**Of course, the good stuff is yet to come, and this is probably the darkest chapter of the sequence, especially with Sasuke's memories. There is still one week left of winterim, so I will try to get the next chapter written before my life is once again consumed by chemistry. **

**Thanks for reading.**

**Reviews are great motivation. If not for the people reviewing during my hiatus, this chapter might not have come to pass. And, you don't have to push a button to do it any more! **


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